June Air
by BlueBanshee
Summary: Natalia was 16 and trapped under the Red Room's control. Clint was sent to kill her. Our favorite hawk made a different call. How did SHIELD's best partnership get their start? Clintasha. BlackHawk. BlackEye.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N In this chapter, Natasha is 16 years old, still under the control of the Red Room. She currently goes by Natalia, but that will change soon when she meets a certain hawk friend of ours. **

**I do not own Marvel, these characters, or their origins. **

**Enjoy.**

It was June 2007. In the warm summer air, Natalia Romanov looked up to the dark night sky. The gala had already begun, and as always, she had been late in order to make her grand entrance. It was only 15 minutes until her target was set to arrive. Her mind flashed to earlier that day…

"_NATALIA! This is your last and final chance. If you do not complete this mission, do not bother coming back to us. Do you understand?!_" _Ivan Petrovich screamed at the Black Widow._

_"I understand, Ivan." Natalia responded. It had been a long hard day of training, and she hadn't been paying attention to what she was saying. Suddenly she felt a sharp stinging on her cheek and found herself on the floor._

_"You understand WHAT?" He yelled with anger in his eyes._

_"I understand SIR" she practically spit the word back to him. Petrovich then tossed her a black garment bag. 'Great, I wonder what I'm wearing tonight' she thought. She had a pretty good idea though. Tonight's mission was to seduce and kill American diplomat Justin Roth. He had been sticking his nose into the Russians business and the Red Room declared him a liability to their future success. She heard Ivan leave the room and quickly stood up and headed to her room, which was more like a cell, to get ready. When she opened the garment bag up, she saw a floor length black gown that had a slit on the side that went to her waist, and a low cut neckline that left very little to the imagination. Behind the dress would be what she had on later that night, a red and black corseted top with a similar neckline to her dress, along with garter belts, a lacy black thong, and 5 inch stilettos. _

_She sighed inwardly. 'So it's going to be one of those nights' she thought. Even though her target was Roth, she knew he wouldn't be the only one with eyes for her. Natalia pulled her long red curls into a simple yet elegant up do, and began strapping on, and hiding her weapons. Hidden knives, a gun in her purse, poisoned bobby pin, and her famous Widow's Bites in a specially designed bracelet format to avoid suspicion._

_Once she was dressed and ready to go, she started walking towards the limo that would deliver her to the gala tonight. _

Lost in her thoughts, Natalia didn't realize her target had arrived until she heard someone drunkenly laugh behind her, pulling her out of her memory, and into the party.

"Can I get you a drink beautiful?" A man slurred behind her. Good god, the party started a half hour ago, and this guy was that hammered already. Brought back to attention, Natalia did a quick glance around the room until she spotted Roth at the bar. She walked away from drunken asshole number 1, and headed out to find Roth. 'Great, I bet he's drunk off his ass too' she thought annoyed. Doing her research earlier that day, Natalia remembers that the girls he usually goes for are women who flaunt themselves.

Natalia spots Justin by the bar, alone and with a drink in his hand. That's good, it means no catty arguments with any other girls like her one mission to Costa Rica. Damn belly dancers. Pushing that particular memory to the side, she struts over, adding extra sway to her hips as she moved across the room.

"I'll take a watermelon martini, frozen, and absolutely no salt." She told the bartender once she got there, while moving to stand about 3 feet away from Justin Roth. He looked up. Well she had his attention now. She smiled prettily at him and introduced herself.

"Jennifer Wright"

"Justin Roth, now tell me why such a beautiful young lady like you is here alone tonight?"

"Why thank you! And I'm here because my boss needed someone to…um, keep an eye on things." Natalia smirked inwardly to herself when she leaned forward to allow him a better view of her chest and his pupils' dilated.

"But what is a man as handsome as you doing here all alone tonight?" She drawled in a husky voice. Using his same words back at him.

"Well I was here for…business reasons also, and to…get to know a few people a little better, but the party is getting rather boring"

"I agree, I wish I could leave, but my hotel room is being cleaned and I'll have nowhere to go."

"Why don't you come back with me for a little while, or at least until your room is done being cleaned?" Justin offered, not so subtly.

"I'd like nothing better" She purred, rolling her eyes when he turned to grab his keys. 'Well that didn't take long, these men are all the same' she thought to herself. Another day, another kill. If she refused the missions the Red Room sends her on, they will kill her, and find a new Black Widow, so she survives day by day. Kill by kill.

They couple walked outside in the back and Justin called a cab up to the street. They rode to his hotel that was only a few blocks away, meanwhile, during the ride, his hand kept sliding further up her thigh. She heard him take in a sharp breath when he felt the garters she was wearing. 'Good, this should be quick then' she thought.

When they got to Justin's room, he closed the door, and in a failed attempt at being sexy, he slammed her into the back of the door, hitting her head rather hard. Now Natalia was no stranger to pain, but she could do nothing against the headache that had begun to form. He then ripped her dress off her, causing a large tear to form right down the middle. And she liked that dress too. Bastard.

Natalia quickly took charge, and suggested she blindfold him. Roth, being the idiot he is quickly agreed, assuming she had some great plan of pleasure for him. Now blind, Roth couldn't see her take her hidden knife out of the corset, and he also couldn't see her move closer, knife in hand. Pausing ever so slightly, she struck quickly, quietly, and effectively, killing him with no second thought.

That was a lie; she did have a second thought. And it was regret. During her research, Natalia found that Justin Roth had 2 kids, a girl who was 8, and a son who was 11. Their mother, Justin's wife, was killed in a car accident 3 years ago. And now these kids had no one. And boy did Natalia know what that feels like. She grew up without a mother or father, and knows just how hard it is. Natalia began to feel tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, but she had to be strong and hold it in. Natalia still had to walk through the lobby to the back door composed. If she didn't kill him, Ivan would kill her. She had to stay strong and survive, no matter what the cost.

Natalia has given up too much to be the Black Widow to quit now.

After she stole now-dead Justin's coat to cover the rip in her dress, and to keep warm in the night air, Natalia walked out of the hotel's back door, and headed for the alley that would be her shortcut back to the Red Room facility.

But before she even made it halfway through the alley, the guilt of killing that man overwhelmed her, the tears came pouring down, and she collapsed on the ground. All Natalia saw was red. Blood was everywhere in her ledger, pouring red anywhere she looked. Then more tears came. She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to stop the tears that involuntarily fell onto her face. The strong façade of the "emotionless killer" had broken. But this wasn't right, the famous Black Widow never feels guilty, never cries, and is never weak. Her body began shaking with silent heaving sobs as she finally let emotion in after so long of repressing Red Room had wiped that out of her system. Or so she thought.

And little did she know, on the rooftop above her, a watchful hawk was changing his call.

**Please R&R  
****Thanks!**

**Edit: I just posted chapter 20, but I wanted to let all you readers know that I know this chapter is a little rough, but the chapters do indeed get better.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** **thank you so much to everyone who Favorited, followed, or reviewed, you guys rock.**

**I hope you guys like this chapter, it's all about Clint's time leading up to his call change.**

**And wow, this chapter is almost 2,000 words.**

**As usual, I don't own Marvel or the characters. Darn.**

**Enjoy.**

**2 Days ago….**

"Agent Barton, we have a mission for you." Director Fury handed him a file.

"The Black Widow Sir?" Clint thought to himself, beginning to read her file. What he read shocked him. 'Shit, she's killed over 200 people in the last year alone and at only 16 years old too'. Barton thinks back to his own childhood 'It was messed up, but at least I had Barney for part of my life, it looks like she has no family left'.

"Will that be a problem Barton?" Fury asked eyeing him, trying to gauge his best agent's reaction.

"Has any prior surveillance on her been done?"

"Yes, actually" Phil Coulson adds in.

"Our information tells us that she will be attending a gala in Russia 2 days from now. Rumor has it that she is planning the murder of Justin Roth. He's an American diplomat who holds some very interesting information about the Russians. He has 2 children, and his wife died 3 years ago, leaving Roth to raise the kids on his own. Our goal is to capture and kill the Black Widow using any means necessary to do so, preferably before she goes after him." Coulson finished with his usual air of authority. Clint suddenly lost the sympathy for the girl, no, the murderer who would kill the final parent of those children. Clint knew what it was like to grow up without parents, and those kids did NOT deserve that.

"When do we ship out?"

"0400 hours tomorrow morning" Fury responded. Barton and Coulson began to leave,

"Oh, and Agent?"

"Yes?" Clint responded in his usual cocky tone after checking his emotions and putting his walls back up.

"Try not to let her kill you; you're our best agent at the moment." Fury said in place of a goodbye. But Coulson could tell that Fury was very worried for Barton. This girl was no amateur. She has been a trained assassin almost her whole life. Natalia has also reportedly received several 'treatments' to enhance her abilities. No one had ever successfully killed the Black Widow, and Fury wanted to send an 18 year old kid, who was just recruited himself 2 years ago? After they left the office, Barton turned to Phil,

"I'm going to go pack my arrows, see you in the morning Phil"

"Please TRY to get some sleep tonight Barton, don't be in the gym all night"

"Okay MOM" Barton responded before promptly removing an air vent cover and hopping inside. He was heading for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s armory. One of the agents in charge of new technologies had apparently come up with some new arrow heads.

Phil Coulson walked away, deep in thought. 'I don't know how that kid can be so damn sarcastic right now. This mission is the single most dangerous one he's ever been on.' Slight anger and annoyance at Barton was how Phil coped with Clint being sent out on missions like this. If he didn't, he would worry himself sick on a regular basis.

Clint stayed up in the gym all night, working out his own personal demons that haunted his nightmares, before collapsing into his bed at 2:30am. But he wasn't the only one who didn't sleep much that night. In a room across the Helicarrier, Phil Coulson could only fall asleep for 30 minutes at a time, worry ever-present in his brain.

**0400 hours the next morning**

"But Coulson…." Clint Barton complained when his handler refused to let him have an 8th cup of coffee.

"It is not my fault that you kept yourself awake until all hours of the night in the gym. But I will not have you bouncing off the walls of this Quinjet in an hour because SOMEONE decided to drink 8 cups of coffee with extra sugar!" Phil exclaimed, slightly annoyed, yet also amused at the archer. That kid and his coffee were like bonded at the hip. Without it though, Barton becomes unusually whiney.

Clint scowls and gives Coulson the finger.

"Hey! I have seen that finger a few too many times this week for my liking."

"Wanna see the other?" Barton half-jokes.

"Wanna see probation with suspension from field duty?" Phil threatens.

"Bastard. You wouldn't dare. Fury, you, and almost everyone else on base knows that suspending me from field duty is a bad idea. " Barton states matter-of-factly with a smirk on his face as the Quinjet takes off. Everyone knew he would just end up messing with the Junior Agents. Probation is the worst torture S.H.I.E.L.D. could ever think up. Because he becomes so bored, probation for Agent Barton means pranking the Junior Agents and getting them yelled at by assistant director, Maria Hill. And boy did that woman have a set of lungs on her. The Junior Agents practically pee themselves any time they mess up an order, and then don't fix it, which is what gets Hill pissed. In short, messing with the Junior Agents was always guaranteed to be entertaining.

Clint Barton pulled out his IPod, plugged his headphones in, and prepared to get some sleep. He always did sleep better on flights. He soon fell asleep, mentally preparing for the tough mission ahead.

**Many, Many hours later…**

By the time they had landed on the S.H.I.E.L.D. base just outside of Moscow, it was already 7pm. A well rested Clint Barton and his weary-from-worry handler stepped off the Quinjet and onto the runway. A S.H.I.E.L.D. issued car was already waiting for them, and after unloading their things from the jet, they immediately packed it back up into the back of the car. Easily snatching the keys from the Agent sent to greet them, Clint looks over his shoulder and says to Coulson,

"I'm driving."

"Like hell. Give me the keys, Barton."

"Nope." Barton answered while getting into the car, adding emphasis on the P, producing a pop at the end of the word. At this point, Coulson gave up, allowing Barton to do whatever he wanted. With this mission ahead, the kid deserved a break.

Once they arrived at the SHIELD safe house an hour later, both Agent and handler needed rest. The flight had absolutely exhausted both of them. Tomorrow was the gala, and Barton would need to be at his best. After a long, hot shower, Clint flopped down into bed wearing only a pair of sweatpants, and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

**The day of the gala…**

Natalia Romanov wasn't the only one going over and getting ready for their mission. Across the city from her, Clint Barton was being tossed a garment bag from the person in charge of his wardrobe for this mission. When the bag was unzipped, Barton pulled out his tactical vest, cargo pants, combat boots, and damn, Coulson even remembered to pack his wool socks which would be perfect for a mission in the chilly night air. After strapping a gun to his hip and ankle, and hiding about 5 different knives on his person, Clint pulled his favorite weapon out of his bag of gear. Admiring how it had been freshly cleaned, he swung his quiver of arrows, onto his back, the bow soon following.

In a final pre-mission ritual, both Barton and Coulson put their com links in and sync them with each other so that they have constant communication during the mission.

"Be careful out there Barton" Coulson shot one last worried glance at the archer as Clint pulled out of the driveway of the safe house and headed towards what would be one of two his vantage points for the evening.

When Barton arrived a block away from his first perch, which would be on the rooftop of a building across from the gala, he hid his car in an alley and climbed up the fire escape. He figured that taking the rooftops would be less conspicuous than walking on the ground in his current attire.

Barton's Intel had said that the Black Widow was always fashionably late to big parties. She just loved making her entrances that usually caused many jaws to drop at her beauty. And she was beautiful, Clint couldn't deny that. But she was also very deadly, no matter how young and soft her child-like features appeared.

While thinking, Barton also kept a close eye on the entrance to the gala. Even if he couldn't shoot her in the front walkway area, he wanted to have some sort of idea of how she acted around people, god forbid he should have to confront her in a hand-to-hand fight. His skills were excellent, but there was no denying that hers were better.

And then as someone stepped out of a car, he saw a brilliant flash of red. Well damn her hair was bright. Natalia tossed her keys to the Valet worker who could only stare in awe. She easily slipped security, and was soon out of Clint's sight.

All he could do was wait for her to leave with Roth and then follow her to whatever hotel Roth was staying in, and hopefully kill her in an alley on the way there, before she killed the diplomat.

Keeping his eyes trained on the door, he soon saw Justin Roth arrive.

"Roth has arrived, keep you posted Phil"

"Copy that Hawkeye" Phil responded quickly.

Soon, both the Widow and Roth were out of his line of sight. After waiting for 30 minutes, he began to worry that he had missed them leave. She must have taken the back door out of the gala and taken a shortcut to the hotel. He quickly arrived at his next position on a roof overlooking an alley right outside a hotel. Barton was mentally kicking himself for letting her get away with Roth. Those damn kids would have nobody now.

"Goddamn it" Barton said into his com.

"What happened? Hawkeye report." Phil responded, worry evident in his tone.

"She snuck out the back with Roth, I'm at the next point by the hotel, but chances are she's finishing her dirty work now." Coulson could clearly hear the self-loathing evident in the archers tone.

"Not your fault Clint, continue to keep me updated."

Soon after their conversation took place, a familiar red head walked out the door in what appeared to be Roth's coat. If killing wasn't enough, now she had to steal from the guy too? Watching her with his hawk-like eyes, he watched her shiver from the cold, and upon closer analysis of her face, it appeared the Widow was seconds away from tears.

Seeing her enter the alley, Hawkeye noched an arrow back, ready to fire when all the sudden, the ice-cold Black Widow collapsed on the ground in what looked like a poorly held together guilt. This was unheard of. The deadly assassin crying? 'Well someone obviously does have some sort of feelings and guilt in their soul' he thought.

At the start of the mission, Clint Barton had planned on killing this girl without a second thought, but now, he wasn't so sure. He saw her shaking with sobs and in a brief moment of insanity, he said words he never expected to come out of his mouth on this mission.

"Coulson, change of plans. I'm bringing her in as an asset. Meet me with an evac team here in an hour. Hawkeye out." Barton stated, turning off his com link before Phil could reply.

And without another word, he silently dropped to the ground.

**A/N Please R&R, it gives me feedback so I know what you guys like and don't like!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Hey guys, so this will be the chapter where they finally meet, hoorah!**

**This chapter is about the same length as the first one because I had to cut it off at some point, and the end of this chapter just seemed like the right place.**

**I wanted to thank anyone who has Favorited followed, or reviewed this story, I've been trying my best to personally respond to every review I get, but if I miss yours, please let me know! You guys rock.**

**Shout out to whoever viewed this story from somewhere other than America, I think that's super cool**

** Anyway, as usual, I don't own Marvel, The Avengers, or the characters**

**Enjoy!**

Dropping to the ground, Clint quickly pulled his body together into a roll so as to not break anything. He was quiet up until that moment so needless to say, a very surprised Russian assassin was not very happy with his entrance.

"Who the hell are you?! What do you want?!" She spat in Russian, while simultaneously hopping to her feet.

"I'm Agent Barton, with SHIELD" he responded in English seriously. He saw something flash across her face briefly. Was that fear? Before he had a chance to find out, she lunged at him with a knife, seemingly pulled out of nowhere, aiming for his heart.

Had he not been as good as he was, Clint Barton would be dead where he stood. Luckily for him though, he caught the movement in time, dropping to the ground and kicking her feet out from under her. She quickly bounced back, using her hands to catch her body and flip it back up. Immediately, Clint kicked his leg out, catching her in the stomach. Natalia advanced and threw a well aimed punch at his head, and Barton caught it, and flipped her to the ground. She jumped right back up, breathing harder than she was used to in a fight. Clint Barton was her first real challenge in a while.

Natalie whipped a knife out and lunged for his throat from the side. Clint barely got his arm up in time to block the knife, and knock it out of her hand. In an instant, he had his bow drawn and aimed at her heart. For several long moments he just held it there, poised to kill. Natalia was scared. Very scared. And for the first time ever, she let the emotion show on her face. This was the first time being the Black Widow where she thought she was actually going to die.

Clint had almost thrown his original idea to bring her in as an Agent out the window when she tried to kill him. It wasn't until he had an arrow pointed at her chest, and he looked into her eyes and saw fear that he decided he would still bring her in. This girl was fighting for her life because she probably assumed he was there to kill her, but it when he saw the fear on her face, he realized that he probably would have fought tooth-and-nail to stay alive in this situation too.

It wasn't until several long moments later that Natalia spoke.

"Why won't you just kill me already? You won, and I will never beg for mercy, so do what you were sent to do. " Natalia said with a barely hidden tremble in her voice.

"I'm not going to kill you." Clint replied evenly, yet never taking his eyes off of her. She may have stopped actively trying to kill him, but that didn't mean he trusted her.

"So torture then?" She hissed, and sent him a glare that would kill if looks could.

"I'm not going to torture you either." He responded, hiding his surprise. 'What kinds of people have captured her before now?' he thought as he tried to gauge her reaction. When her face relaxed ever so slightly, he went on. "Look, I know that you're good at what you do, good enough to be put at the top of the SHIELD threat-watch list. I know that you don't have any family left, and no real reason to continue to work for the Red Room. They torture you if a mission isn't done perfectly, and abuse you if you even dare show pain." She looked surprised that he knew all of this, and when he noticed he said "Oh yeah, SHIELD's done their research on you, are you really that surprised? But on top of all of this, I know that it would be better for us to have you as an asset as opposed to dead. "

"Your people will never take me in. They will see me as weak, and I will NOT be seen that way."

"Who says they have a choice in the matter?" Barton threw back?

"Well your right ear is twitching and you've 'scratched your ear' now about 3 times in the last few minutes. This tells me that you more than likely have a communicator in that ear and someone is both screaming at you or you're ignoring them, and it's been recently turned off." 'Damn' he thought. She's good. Really good. But that did remind him about Coulson. 'Uh oh' went through his mind as he gingerly reached up to turn his com back on, still never taking his eyes off of her.

"_CLINT BARTON WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! YOU COULD'VE BEEN KILLED YOU JACKASS, AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON WHAT FURY HAS TO SAY TO YOUR STUPID ASS RIGHT NOW_." Clint winced, knowing he fully deserved whatever Coulson had to say to him. Seeing his wince, Natalia raised an eyebrow at him.

"Coulson?"

"_WHAT?!"_

"Um, she surrendered, so when is the evac team going to be here? And also, uh, sorry."

"_Sorry. SORRY? Is that all you have to say right now? You are so lucky I can't reach your neck right now because if I could, I'd strangle you. And you'd better have some answers when you get back, because you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do!_"

"I understand Coulson, but for right now, you're going to need to trust me on this, and I need an evac team here."

"_One has just been sent to your spot, expected arrival in 2 minutes. And if she fights them when they try to cuff her, THEY won't hesitate to shoot and kill."_

"Got it. Phil, I'm so sorr-_"_

"_I know Barton, just get to base alright?"_

"Copy that. Barton out._" _Clint knew Coulson was furious with him. Not so much for the change in mission so much as the radio silence for 15 minutes. There was a good chance Phil thought she'd killed him for a while. Turning to Natalia he said "When the team gets here, they will handcuff you, and most likely sedate you" at this she glared at him, "but if you even attempt to fight back, or look like you're going to harm someone, the team and I will not hesitate to shoot and kill. Understood?" She nodded tensely, preparing for whatever they might do to her. Nothing could be worse than what she's already been through, right?

In the background, they could hear the approaching helicopter headed for the roof of the building on the left side of the alley.

**I hope you guys liked this chapter, I know Phil seems kind of angsty in this chapter, but him and Clint will deal with it in the next chapter. **

**Please R&R, your guys are the best!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hey everyone, I'd like to give a huge shout out to everyone who Favorited, followed, or reviewed this story, it really means a lot **

**This chapter will mostly focus on how Clint and Natalia (Natasha) are dealing with all of this internally.**

**Good news, we finally meet Maria Hill in this chapter, and we get to see a little bit of Clint's past as well.**

**Clint also gets internally angst-y.**

**I do not own Marvel or any of the characters**

**Enjoy.**

As the helicopter got closer and eventually landed, a knot was growing in Clint's stomach. What if SHIELD didn't want him anymore after this? What if Phil refused to speak with him again? What if he was wrong?

"Clint Barton and Black Widow, lower your weapons to the ground. All of them. Agent Barton, you are under arrest for treason against your country. Now kneel on the ground with your hands above your head." Both assassins reluctantly followed the orders, understanding that there were probably at least 2 snipers trained on each of them right now.

Senior Agents dropped to where Clint and Natalia were, quickly putting handcuffs on him, yet hesitating when they came upon her. She held a death glare that the devil would be proud of as one brave Agent inched towards her, handcuffs at the ready. When the Agent got about a foot away, he suddenly stopped and refused to go any further. With a growl of annoyance, the Black Widow took the handcuffs from him and cuffed herself.

Within seconds, Senior Agents were all over Natalia, checking to make sure she didn't harm the original Agent who was holding the handcuffs. Most were looking at her in fear. Clint Barton watched in amazement as the woman who fought tooth-and-nail to get away imprisoned herself. Granted, she could most likely get out of them in seconds, but the fact that she didn't gave him some hope. It gave him hope that she wanted this better life he offered her, and gave him hope that if SHIELD gave her a chance, she'd be a fantastic agent.

As they were loaded onto the waiting Quinjet, Barton held his head in silent acceptance of whatever punishment he received. Because no matter how right he thought he was, he sure as hell knew he deserved it. And boy was he going to get an earful from Phil later, if Phil would ever look at him again.

It was going to be a long ride home to New York.

**Many, many hours later…**

When they arrived at base, the Black Widow was taken to a special re-enforced holding cell, while Clint was taken to an interrogation room. On the way to his room, Agents openly glared at him with hate in their eyes. This woman had killed Americans, and he brings her back alive? He also received looks of shock, a few with pity. The ones showing pity were the ones who probably had a good idea of what Fury and Coulson were going to do to him when they had a chance.

Back in her holding cell, Natalia quickly became bored. SHIELD took all of her weapons, her dress and Roth's jacket, giving her a pair of sweat pants and a SHIELD issued T-shirt to change into. They even found the knife in her hair. Damn. She thought she was going to have to start counting ceiling tiles to stay occupied, when suddenly the stupid Americans brought their argument right outside her door. From the muffled sound she was getting, Natalia picked up on the fact that one of the two people was the same Coulson that Agent Barton had spoken to. The other was female, and Widow thought she heard something about a hill? 'Whatever' she thought and plopped back down on the floor 'There isn't going to be any conclusion in the near future, might as well sit down.'

Meanwhile for Clint, the highest ranking Senior Agents on the Helicarrier began to strip Barton of his weapons. They actually looked surprised with how many they found. What did they expect? That he would go up against the infamous Black Widow with a bow, arrows, and no backup plan? Hell no. If he was anything, Clint Barton was prepared.

He just prayed to whatever being might be out there that SHIELD doesn't boot him because of this. He couldn't lose the one job he's ever been good at; he couldn't lose Phil, that man who brought him into SHIELD when Clint was in such a dark place.

Before SHIELD, Clint was in the circus with his brother Barney. Clint became the circus' main attraction as a sharp shooter with his (in) famous bow. Jealous of all the attention his younger brother was receiving, Barney tried to get Clint fired from the circus, and after a well placed and well spread rumor that Clint was stealing money from the group, Barney and one of his henchman, who also was jealous of Clint, beat the shit out of him before leaving him at the side of the road to die.

Clint Barton became known as a gun for hire known as Hawkeye. He killed for cash, and he didn't care who he hurt, or what he did to someone. Barton slowly became numb because he blocked out the emotions of everything happening to him. He had lost control of his life, only living for the next day, not caring about whom he had become anymore. And that's how Phil found him. Broken and torn apart, Phil brought Clint into SHIELD, taught him how to cope with the stress of the job, how to deal with anger and pain. Finally, Coulson taught Clint how to trust again. After Barney left him for dead, Clint didn't want to believe in the good of anybody. His own brother had betrayed him for God's sake.

Now, Clint had made the same call Coulson did all those years ago, yet he was getting a much different response than he had hoped for. The door to his interrogation room slammed open, and in walked Phil.

"Barton, you are in SO much trouble."

"Phil I-"

"I don't want to hear it Clint, just listen alright?" Coulson asked in a suddenly eerily calm voice. Clint nodded "You turned off your com for 15 minutes. During those minutes, I thought you were dead. You turn it back on and tell me that your target that you were sent to KILL, surrendered and you're bringing her in. Do you have any clue how pissed Fury is? The Council? How do you know we can trust her and this isn't some dirty trick by the Russians? Did you know the Council wants to hold a case against you for treason? Did you know we might have to kill her off anyways? No I'll bet you didn't think any of this through, now did you? The Council is going to-" Phil's voice was rising as he got to the second half of his speech.

"THE COUNCIL CAN KISS MY ASS COULSON. OF COURSE I THOUGHT ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES!" Clint yelled back. He's had enough. He'd had a whole damn flight to think about it all. Didn't Coulson realize that he was worried too? "I thought you trusted me Phil, why can't you trust me on this? I certainly have plenty of experience as an Agent, and guess what? I don't want to kill a 16 year old girl who broke down into a panic attack over a kill because she's worried what her boss will do if the mission doesn't go perfectly. I don't want to kill someone who has a fighting chance to do better in the world. I don't want to kill someone who is like me all those years ago!" Coulson instantly felt bad for how he has been treating the archer since the situation arose. Phil hadn't thought about it the way Clint had just put it, maybe the girl did deserve a second chance, but that doesn't mean we can trust her right now. And that didn't mean Phil would back down.

"Look Barton, she deserves a second chance, but neither Fury, nor the Council will be thrilled about providing that opportunity for her. A whole hell of a lot of bad things could happen if she runs back to the Russians with mission information. We can't trust her right now. Your decision to do this is considered treason. If the Council decides you're wrong, you could get the death penalty Clint!" Coulson's voice broke when he got to death. Suddenly the door to the room is opened and Assistant Director Maria Hills steps in. She doesn't even look at either man in the room when she speaks,

"Barton, Coulson, the Council is on."

**A/N Please R&R, thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Hey guys, I hope you like this chapter, there is again, more individual interactions with Coulson and Fury than between Clint and Natalia. But coming up really soon in the next chapter, it will start the real interactions and stuff between Clint and Natalia.**

**Thank you again to everyone who Favorited, followed, or reviewed this story, you guys are great!**

**I don't own Marvel or the characters**

**Enjoy. **

The walk to the room with the monitors for the Council hearing was the longest walk of Clint Barton's life. He didn't know what was going to happen to him. Would they kill him, black list him, fire him? He just didn't know. He couldn't bear to not be an Agent anymore, because this was his life. Though it may not be a job many people like, it's a job he's good at, and a job that helps make the world a better place.

Barton and Coulson walk in the door of the room. Fury is standing in the corner. Clint can see him out of the corner of his eye, but refuses to look at the Director.

"Agent Barton" one of the Councilmen speaks up "you have deliberately disobeyed a mission given to you by the Council. You have not only failed, but you have also have brought a threat into our agency. Why?"

Fury stepped in. "Because the kid has balls the size of coconuts, that's why. No one here can tell me that Agent Barton is not experienced. He had been on countless missions where he has had to make quick judgment calls, and he has never been wrong yet."

"That may be true Director, but we cannot predict the Black Widow's future actions. She is unstable, and dangerous-"

Clint had enough. "She put her own GODDAMN handcuffs on because the 'strong and almighty' SHIELD Agents couldn't handle it! This girl locked herself up on purpose because she has hope of a second chance! She's killed in the past to SURVIVE the shitty life she's had. Not because she enjoys it!" Barton knew he had made the right call. But in his mind, he knew that convincing the council he was right would be a totally different story.

Coulson spoke up "As much fun as it is to watch this argument about Romanov is, might I suggest we reach a conclusion here? I for one trust Agent Barton's judgment on this one." When he was done, Clint looked up at him and smiled gratefully while Coulson gave him the look that says 'everything will be okay'. Fury decided to add his final input into the situation.

"Agent Barton made a choice that could benefit this agency. I refuse to try him for treason when he hasn't committed it. As wary as I am about this girl, I believe that if given the opportunity, she could become a valuable part of SHIELD." The Council members whispered for a while with themselves and eventually spoke.

"We will not be charging Agent Barton with anything because of this mission. However we would like to have a talk with Natalia before we make a decision on where she stands in this situation."

Fury turned the screens off and was walking out the door of the room when he stopped.

"My office in 20 minutes Barton." And then he continued walking to his office. Clint turned to Phil,

"Phil I-"

"I'm sorry Clint." Phil replied, pulling the archer into a hug. "I was angry and worried you were hurt, and I got mad to deal with it and I'm sorry I didn't trust your judgment from the beginning." Phil released Barton and told him, "Be warned, Fury isn't going to be as forgiving. The Director trusts your call on this because of your experience. But he now has to deal with a lot of shit you've started, but he isn't going to fire you from SHIELD."

"Thank you, Phil."

"Get going Barton, you don't want to keep Fury waiting." Clint began the long trek to Director Fury's office from across the Helicarrier.

When Barton arrived outside the closed door of Fury's office, he paused. He was afraid of what the Director was going to say to him. The only hope he had was knowing that Fury wasn't kicking him out of SHIELD. Clint knocked once.

"Enter." He heard the Director say through the door. Once he was in the office, Fury steeled him with a glare that should kill.

"Agent Barton" he begins in an eerily calm voice. "Please tell me why you disobeyed your mission parameters and decided to bring in arguably one of the best assassins out there?"

"Well Sir, I thought that bringing her in would benefit SHIELD and we could gain a strong and capable Agent, instead of wasting obvious talent with death…"

"You expect me to believe that that is the only reason you brought her in?"

"No Sir. My other reasons were personal. I do not wish to share those details with you."

"Well Barton, you're going to GODDAMN HAVE TO. I am dealing with a SHITSTORM from the Council, and you decide to get in touch with your emotions and not tell me for 'personal' reasons?!"

"Well Sir, if you must know, when I saw her, I felt like I was seeing me 2 years ago. She's hopeless, broken, scared, and afraid. She has no one to keep her safe, and you've done research too Director, I know you have. You know what they do to those girls over there! " Clint finished. God he was so done with everyone questioning his decisions. He had plenty of experience to make calls off of.

"We're finished here Barton, I will alert you when the Council makes their decision. But they want to interrogate her first. Go escort her to the monitor room, and please have Coulson stay in the room with her, but you will not be permitted to stay. That is all"

"Yes Sir."

Barton went off in search of Natalia, hoping she would be towards the front of the high-security holding area. Nope, no such luck. She was in the very back, in the highest level security protected cell. Before he opened the door, Clint looked through the 1 way glass. She looked so sad to be there, yet there was something else in her eyes. Was that hope?

He opened the door. "Natalia? It's time for you to meet the Council." She nodded her head once in acceptance, but refusing to speak directly to him. The entire walk there, she refused to even look at him, and instead kept her eyes down, to avoid glaring at anyone. They reach the room full on monitors, and he grabs the door handle.

"Coulson will be in there with you, try to get along with him, he's on your side right now. He has a lot of pull around here." And with that, Clint Barton opened the door for her, closed it once she was inside, sat in a chair outside the room, and waited.

**Inside….**

"Hello Natalia, my name is Phil Coulson; I'm Agent Barton's handler." He extended his hand and to his shock, she grabbed it back and said

"Natalia Romanov. You're the man from Agent Barton's com unit." It wasn't a question.

"Yes I am, and I hope you're ready for this" Coulson said as he pulled up the Council screens.

"Black Widow. Right now, we will ask you questions, and you will answer. If you refuse to answer, we will not hesitate to kill you right now. First question. Where were you born?"

"Russia, I believe it was somewhere just outside of Moscow."

"Why did you kill Justin Roth?"

"No choice" She responded with a haunted look in her eyes.

"Why did you surrender?"

"Anything is better than the hell I was living in before Agent Barton found me."

"Why should we allow you to live and join SHIELD as an Agent?"

"Honestly? Because I'm one of the best, and you all know that. I have…ah…. skills that most other Agents don't, and I specialize in covert operations. I would be a valuable asset and you know it. " She said, trying to make her sound as valuable as she hoped she could be to this agency.

"We will deliberate on this matter. You may go now."

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Hey guys, sorry it took a little longer to update than usual. My uncle died and we've been busy with preparing the funeral and stuff with that.**

**Anyways, the Council finally made their decision, yikes!**

**I hope you guys like this chapter, and thank you to anyone who Favorited, followed, and reviewed. I think you guys are the coolest.**

**As usual, I don't own Marvel, the characters or anything they establish as theirs.**

**Enjoy!**

As Natalia walked out of the room housing the Council, she let out a breath of air she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Coulson followed behind her, ready to lead her to her cell. But before he could say anything, Clint had turned the corner and found them.

"Its okay, Phil, I'll take it from here." Coulson looked into his eyes as if asking a question. Clint nodded and Phil walked off. Natalia turned to face Barton, her face blank, yet inside; a thousand emotions were running through her head. He spared her life, and she supposed she was grateful, but she didn't want to owe him anything. She was grateful because her life was a living hell working through the Red Room, not that she'd had that much choice in that particular matter.

Barton was studying her face carefully, so she kept it blank, but she could not hide the emotion raging through her eyes.

"I suppose you will be escorting me back to my cell." It wasn't a question. The handler never would have left them if she wasn't going to be put back under high security.

"Yeah, but hopefully it won't be your room for long. How did your meeting with the Council go?"

"Why do you care?" She asked suspiciously. Why would he care what happened to her, unless he benefited from it.

"Well for one thing, I brought you in against orders, so what happens to you is my business now too for the moment. And two, it would be nice for you to have a room with a shower, right now, your face kind of looks like shit, no offense." He looked at her in an almost sad sort of way. She hated it, but he was right.

Her face was a combination of heavy makeup from the mission last night, tear tracks, dirt, and grime from their fight last night also. On top of that, her hair was probably a sight to see. She couldn't believe how weak she looked in front of all these people! She was pissed, but Natalia knew that if she wanted to be accepted here, and make a decent impression, she would need Barton's help.

"I don't suppose I'm allowed to use the restroom?" She asked quietly, looking down. She didn't want to see the sympathy in his eyes. She absolutely hated sympathy. Yet she knew she didn't deserve any kindness from these people. The very back of her mind held her ledger, her bleeding ledger that threatened to suffocate her. She knew she had killed innocents before, yet this man, Justin Roth had sent her over the edge. Natalia didn't know how to deal with this onslaught of emotion. Her cool and collected exterior had finally cracked.

Clint was surprised at how she had asked him. Where was the initial confidence he had seen in this girl? The same girl that snapped her own handcuffs on, and who tried to kill him to stay alive? The humble way she asked had him taken aback.

"Of course, there is one in the detainment area, near your…room. I'll take you there now."

"You and I both know it's not a room. A room signifies a choice. I'd prefer if you just called it what it is; a prison cell." She responded with a hint of sadness in her voice. She had had almost no control over her life in the past 16 years. This was no shock to her, the no control part that is. The real shock was how kind she was being treated by Agent Barton and the man named Coulson.

"Sorry, will do." He responded, beginning to lead the way back to her cell and to the restroom over there.

They remained silent on the walk back, only stopping when they reached the door to the individual bathroom. Natalia walked in and locked the door as soon as it was closed. She needed a moment to compose herself again.

Looking in the mirror, the first this Natalia noticed were her eyes. They looked haunted and exhausted. She next saw her hair. Although it was ratted up, tangled and greasy, it was still its same fire red color, a color so bright that it looked alive. Her face was the final thing she saw, and it shocked her just how different it looked. I appeared as though she had been to hell and back, which when she thought about, she pretty much had.

After using the toilet and washing her hands, Natalia turned on the warm water and began scrubbing her face as best she could with her hands. The water ran dirty with all the grime and makeup that had accumulated over the last two days. Once it ran clean, she began washing her long red locks in the sink. Using the hand soap that was there, she washed and rinsed, and washed and rinsed. Natalia had run soap and water through her hair a total of 3 times before she stopped and looked in the mirror again.

It was a 360 degree change. Her pale skin was actually visible again, and her eyes looked much less tired than they had before. Her hair was as alive as ever, shining with the water still in it. She turned off the water and walked out the door. She found Agent Barton leaning against the wall with his phone out. When he heard the door open, he looked up. The surprise on his face was visible.

"That looks better." He told her. But boy was he surprised. With all the makeup on her face originally, he would've guessed she was 18 or 19 years old. Now, she looked like the 16 year old kid she was.

"I know." She responded. But it wasn't with arrogance or cockiness. She really did know that she looked better after washing up.

The rest of the walk to her cell was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Barton enjoyed the quiet, and so did she.

"See you when the Council makes a decision." Clint said as way of goodbye. Natalia just nodded back as she sat on the prison style bed, pulling per knees up to her chest. She rested her chin on top of her knees, and waited.

**Meanwhile in the Council Room…**

"Agent Coulson, we have made our decision." Coulson nodded as if willing the council to go on. "This girl has undeniable talent, and will make an excellent addition to our agency, however, Natalia Romanov will become an Agent ONLY under these conditions. One, she will pass the basic junior agent exams, written and physical. Two, she will have full physical and psychological exams done, with a full explanation of past medical history. Three, due to the nature of her recruitment, if she is deemed medically fit by our doctors; she will also take Senior Agent level exams. Finally, she will be partnered with Agent Barton, and you will become a handler to both the team, and themselves individually."

"I understand fully. You will be notified once these requirements are met. I will send Director Fury a video of this meeting." Coulson closed down the monitors and began the long walk back to the cells where Natalia was being held.

**In the cell…**

Natalia lifted her head when she heard the door open. Coulson was standing in front of her. She waited for the death sentence she would most likely be receiving. Coulson spoke

"Now you tell us you're the best, and obviously Barton saw something in you, so let's talk about how you're going to prove it to everyone else here."

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hey guys, I hope you all liked last chapter, where we finally got our verdict from the Council of assholes. This chapter isn't as much Clintasha because we need to get Natalia settled into SHIELD. Next chapter will have interactions between the two A LOT**

**Thanks to anyone who Favorited, followed, or reviewed, that's awesome!**

**I love seeing all the different countries you guys read this from.**

**I do not own Marvel, The Avenger, or anything that is copyrighted as theirs.**

**Enjoy!**

After Coulson went and informed Natalia of the conditions of her recruitment, something in the way she carried herself changed. There was relief and a slight confidence, though that might've had something to do with the fact that SHIELD gave her a room for herself. It was recruit style, basic and plain, but it had a bed, a bathroom with a shower, a kitchenette, and a small two-person style dinner table. Not that she planned on having any guests for dinner.

The next stop on Phil's list was wherever Agent Barton was. The conditions of Natalia's recruitment affected him too, so he needed to know as soon as possible.

It was not unusual that Coulson eventually found Clint in the training room, beating away at a punching bag. Looking at his fists, Coulson noticed they were bright red. The archer must have forgotten to tape them. Again.

"I can feel you staring at me Coulson, and I might add, a little creepy" Clint joked, stopping and turning to face Phil.

"The Council has made their decision." Clint waited. His patience was something many people envy, but as a sniper, it's 100% necessary. "She's going to become an Agent hopefully. I believe she can, and wants to." Clint's face was a mixture of emotions, from happiness, to apprehension.

"Good, when will they let her out of the cell?"

"30 minutes ago actually, her SHIELD issued wardrobe and utilities will be delivered later on today."

"Well that was fast. I mean damn they put that on the top of their discussion agenda."

"Well they couldn't deny how much having her will help us. I think you made the right choice Clint, we'll know for sure in about a week after she completes Junior Agent training and testing"

"Thank you, Phil" And Phil knew the thank you wasn't just meant for telling Clint the outcome of the Council's decision, it was for everything Coulson has ever done, and everything he will do for his favorite Agent in the future. "I'll stop by and offer a spar tomorrow maybe."

"Sounds like a plan, just please be careful." Coulson knew how good she was, and he'd hoped she wouldn't hurt Barton on purpose, but accidents do happen. Coulson knew about accidents all too well. Coulson turned and left, heading back towards Natalia's room.

**30 minutes ago…**

After being shown her room and being told about the deliveries that would be dropped by later on that day, her handler told her to clean and rest up.

Natalia actually thanked him (a first for her) and closed the door. Just standing against the door, she could see every part of her room, yet it was the biggest room she'd ever lived in her whole life. It was guaranteed not to be bugged, watched, etc, and it was in the most basic sense of the word, safe.

Her bed was small and simple, yet as she went as sat on it, the mattress was the softest and thickest she's ever had. The tiny kitchenette is perfect with a sink, microwave, small burner oven, and even a coffee maker. The mini fridge was a bonus too. Walking into the bathroom, it was again, simple yet perfect. The shower was huge to her small figure, and there was a sink and medicine cabinet above it (stocked with a basic first aid kit, most likely after shorter, less harmful missions).

Natalia immediately stripped down and turned on the shower water. She expected it to be freezing, like she was used to in the Red Room, but it wasn't. It was hot water that came out of the spout and she could've cried just at that. But she didn't because one emotional meltdown was enough for this month, thank you.

She washed her hair with the supplies she found already under the sink, and stood in the shower for another 10 minutes, just enjoying the warmth, and also waiting for all the dirt left on her body that she didn't get earlier, was washed away.

She stepped out and wrapped herself in a towel, quickly drying off, and re-dressing into the sweat pants and t-shirt she was given when Natalia had first arrived here. She hated to admit it, but she was grateful. Grateful that the Council decided to give her a chance, that Coulson gave her a chance, and above all, that Agent Barton gave her a chance. She was grateful because he could've killed her, but he didn't. And she owed him for that.

Almost right after she was done getting dressed, her handler was back, after the hour he had given her to clean up and get ready for her medical exam and official paperwork. He looked up from his phone that was more like a small computer and greeted her.

"Feel better?" Gosh, she looked so much younger now. Natalia nodded and they headed off to a conference room to begin the part of the paperwork that didn't require the medical exam, because they couldn't get her in until tomorrow.

When they arrived, Coulson began

"Now, your current name is Natalia Romanov, but Director Fury has agreed with both the Council and me, that it would be recommended for you to change your name. It doesn't have to be major, just nothing the Russians can track you with."

"I can choose my own name?" She had never had a choice in anything regarding her in any way, shape, or form, and now that she did, Natalia wasn't so sure. "Are there any recommended suggestions?" She asked.

"The most highly recommended would be Natasha Romanoff. It's American sounding enough, yet not very far off from your original name. Obviously this name wouldn't be used on missions, but for your SHIELD credit card, bank account, computer account, etc, we need you to choose one."

"Natasha sounds fine."

"Alright, place of birth?"

"I'm not 100% sure, I believe it was somewhere outside of Moscow though."

"Can we take your measurements for your clothes that will be dropped off later?"

"Yes" She responded, and with a quick press of a button on his phone, a woman hurried in, took the measurements, and left after giving them to Agent Coulson.

"Ok, age is 16, correct?"

"Yes, but I will turn 17 tomorrow."

"Then I will put that down, as this paperwork will not be complete for a few days."

"Do you know how many people you have killed thus far by chance?" Her eyes flashed with remorse and regret, but almost as soon as it had come, it was gone again. She hadn't expected that question to come up. But she still knew. She had always known. She closed her eyes when she spoke in a haunted voice.

"473." Her voice cracked when she reached the three, but Phil pretended not to notice, and she was glad.

"Well this is currently all we can do until we have full medical and psychological evaluations." Natasha didn't look happy about the full evaluations, but she accepted it, and would cooperate. Because well, this place was treating her better than the Red Room did in 16 years.

Natasha left the conference room, leaving Coulson to do whatever handlers did when they weren't with their Agents. She easily found her way back to her room, entering the code into the keypad on her door. Natasha liked that form of lock because she could change it at any time to whatever she wished.

Not even 10 minutes later, a knock sounded on the door. Natasha checked the peephole for danger, and spotting several Junior Agents with her new things; she opened the door and took 2 of the boxes herself.

"The rest of them can go on the floor right here inside the door." She told them. One squeaked when he realized she was talking to him, another paled visibly. Jesus Christ, she was trying to be better here, and these incompetent fools can't even deliver four boxes? The Agents quickly left, and Natasha once again closed the door.

The largest of the four boxes was her new SHIELD issued clothes. Inside held several pairs of sweatpants and t-shirts, but it also had a brand new pair of combat boots, with a few types of socks to go with them. There was also a pair of tennis shoes, 4 new bras, about 12 pairs of underwear, standard white. There were shorts and tank tops, cargo pants, a jacket, and a few long sleeved shirts. The box also held 3 cat suits, 2 plain black, and 1 SHIELD style blue. Natasha pulled out the final item. One was a pair of blue jeans. Plain, simple jeans, yet Natasha had never been allowed to wear jeans before, and her eyes welled with simple joy.

She blinked away the tears and moved on to the two medium sized boxes. These held basic toiletries like toothbrushes and toothpaste, toilet paper and a few kitchen supplies. The final box was rather small compared to the first three, yet still large enough to catch her interest. Opening it up, Natasha found all of the weapons SHIELD had confiscated from her upon her arrival; including her special made Widow's Bite bracelets. Overall, she had 8 knives, 2 handguns, a mini handgun, her 'Bite's', and lastly there was an envelope. Looking inside, there was a driver's license for New York, a social security card, a birth certificate, a credit card, and her bank account information. There was also her shield identification badge and SHIELD issue cell phone.

Damn. She'd never had this much stuff to herself, ever. And so she cried, and cried, thanking whatever God existed out there for this chance to fix her screw ups. After composing her voice, she called the two pre-programmed numbers of her new team and only said 2 words before hanging up abruptly.

"Thank you". Both Barton and Coulson were surprised and confused by the sudden phone calls, yet they quickly realized who it was. This gave them hope that girl of only 16, could come out on top eventually.

**That night…**

After a 4 mile run on the indoor track, Natasha headed back to her room. Once she had showered and set her alarm for 5am, she crawled into bed under the warm covers, getting comfortable quickly. After 16 years of sleeping on a mattress 2 inches thick with hard springs, it didn't take long to get comfortable here. She felt safe that night, so she hoped the nightmares would stay away…

Boy was she wrong.

**What do you think her nightmares are about? If you guess right in a review, I'll PM you **

**Please R&R! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Hey guys, this chapter starts off when the previous left off, in Natasha's nightmare.**

**Sorry for the long gap in updates, I was gone all weekend.**

**Thank you to everyone who Favorited, followed, or reviewed!**

**Enjoy!**

"_I won't do it."_

"_Natalia, you must kill them if you are going to be the Black Widow. There is no choice in this matter." Ivan told a young, 15 year old Natalia. But Natalia didn't want to kill the other 12 girls. She trained with these girls, lived with them, formed bonds with them. Now when they trusted her the most, Ivan expected her to betray them._

"_I refuse."_

"_Fine, if that's how difficult you're going to be." Ivan called over his shoulder "Guard! Bring one of the girls and 1 only. You will learn the hard way why you will never refuse an order from me again. " Ivan brought the girl the guard brought over, and locked her in a chamber with 4 glass walls. She struggled, but when she was met with a gun to her face, she stopped. _

_Natalia knew the girl. She was the Panther. Light on her feet, skinny, and fast with jet black hair, this girl had a different specialty than Natalia. Panther's was to steal information and get in and out without the person even knowing she was there. Natalia could too, but her other talents were being exploited at the moment. The Panther locked eyes with Natalia, silently begging for help, but Natalia knew she couldn't move, or she'd be shot dead._

_It was then that Natalia noticed that the room had no windows or air holes. The door was sealed shut and the only thing the box had connected to it was a long tube running from the top that connected to a large generator looking box. Suddenly the generator roared to life and Ivan smiled._

_After about 15 seconds, the Panther began to look panicked, she screamed, but no sound came out. Natalia paled, they were sucking the air out of the chamber. The Panther mouthed 'HELP' and Natalia just looked at the ground._

"_I'll give you one more chance. You can kill her, or she and the rest will die like this."_

"_I won't kill them!" Natalia yelled back. She was angry now. Why couldn't they all stay? Why was she the chosen one?_

"_Ungrateful BITCH, you will suffer now!" Shit, Natalia just realized what she had done. Ivan moved closer to her, and out of sheer will, Natalia held back a flinch. Ivan yelled to the guard again,_

"_Bring them all. One at a time until they are all gone." No, no, this can't be happening. Natalia fell to her knees while the Panther stopped struggling after 4 and a half minutes and collapsed, dead eyes staring right at her. The guards quickly removed Panther's body before the next girl marched in._

_Natalia stood up_

"_I will do it." She said, not wanting the next girl to suffer. Petrovich smiled in a vicious way._

"_Now Natalia, you had your chance. Now you will watch them suffer." And on the process went, with different horrors each time. Deadly spiders, snakes, water, and acid all made appearances. By the time the last girl came in, Natalia was almost in a state of shock. All of the girls had cried out to her, begging for help, but when Natalia tried helping the third girl, several guards restrained her._

"_No" Natalia whispered to herself. It was the Cobra; the only girl Natalia could have considered her best friend and Ivan knew it. He had always known, no matter how much they tried to hide it. The two girls had almost the exact same skills, yet Natalia was always just a little better. Cobra looked into Natalia's eyes and immediately understood. She nodded and her eyes said everything words could not. They said she understood, she forgives her, she'll miss her, and she loves Natalia. All in one glance the Cobra brought Natalia to tears._

_Ivan walked forward with a gun in his hand and held it out to Natalia. _

"_This is your last chance. Refuse and you will die with her." Natalia slowly grabbed the gun and walked forward to Cobra. _

"_I'm sorry" she said as she hugged Cobra one last time. She could feel the girl she considered her sister shaking. But Natalia knew it wasn't out of fear, it was rage at what Ivan was making Natalia do._

"_I forgive you Natalia." And in the same moment Cobra uttered her last words, Natalia pulled the trigger._

**Reality…**

Natasha woke up screaming with a gun in her hand and tears running down her face. She blinked away the sleep while shaking so hard that she dropped the gun onto her mattress. Natasha pulled her knees up to her chest and focused on her breathing instead of the memory. But she couldn't help it now. The last moments of her pulling the trigger kept re-playing in her mind.

Natasha leaned over and put the gun back in its place under her pillow. There would be no more sleep tonight for Natasha. She looked over at the clock and realized it was 2am. She then walked over to her closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a sports bra. Out of habit, she also grabbed her thigh holster and a gun.

On her way to the gym, she passed no one, which figures since most normal people are asleep at this point. She reached the door to the gym and slipped inside. Natasha immediately went for the punching bag, ready to work out her nightmares.

Punching and kicking something almost never feels as good as it does after a nightmare to her and tonight was no exception. Back in the Red Room, the guards would laugh when they heard her screaming. But at SHIELD, not a soul would know, and that was perfectly fine by her. After a good hour of working on the punching bag, Natasha moved towards the gymnast area. Jumping up and grabbing an uneven bar, she swung her weight forwards and back until she reached the top in an upside down position.

She suddenly felt eyes on her, but in looking around, she saw that the gym was still empty. 'It must be the nightmares' she mused, swinging back down, and up again in a practiced routine. To finish off, Natasha released the bar when her momentum was greatest and flipped through the air gracefully. Checking the time, she saw that it was almost 4:30.

Natasha was about to head back to her room when she looked down and saw her bloody hands. This always happened when she forgot to tape her knuckles before fighting, boxing, and anything else of the sort.

She moved over to the water fountain and let it run over her hands, clearing them of any evidence of the blood. At some point she had puller her hair up into a ponytail, and now it was almost completely falling out of the rubber band from the workout. After fixing her hair, she turned to look through the glass into the shooting range part of the gym.

The targets were all filled with arrows, probably a good seventy five or hundred. The air vent to the ceiling was missing also.

And sitting alone on a table in the room was a dark purple bow.

**So who's eyes do you think were on her?**

**Please R&R **

**Thanks!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Hey guys, here's the next chapter, I hope you all like the ending, but no skipping! haha**

**Big thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed, it means a lot!**

**I hope to get the next chapter up sometime tomorrow or Thursday**

**Enjoy!**

Arriving early for training the next morning, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling she had in the gym the other night of being watched. It was habit to be paranoid, but she still didn't like the feeling it left. She shook it off and prepared herself for the day ahead.

Today was knife training and she smirked inwardly as she examined the types of knives on the table. She had mastered knives by the age of eleven. These would be nothing compared to that.

She'd had to put her hair up today for training, SHIELD rules of course. Protocols and regulations said that female agent's hair had to be tied back if longer than 8 inches. And Natasha's long red curls were at least 18 inches long. Paired with her SHIELD issued shorts and tank top, she felt very generic and boring as the other recruits walked in.

Upon seeing Natasha, many gave her wary glances and avoided her like the plague. A few even dared to give her dirty looks. But after today, Natasha would wipe those looks right off their faces.

Finally, their instructor walked in.

"Hello and welcome to basic training. My name is Agent Wilson and you will be training with knives today. I expect only the best behavior around these weapons. Insubordination will result in immediate dismissal from SHIELD. Are there any questions?" A petite woman with a scowl on her face in the back raised her hand and spoke.

"I'm sorry sir but does Director Fury know that we're training with _criminals_ today?" The woman practically spit the word criminal. It didn't bother Natasha any. She turned and smirked at the woman. She'd been called worse, much, much worse.

"I'm sorry Agent Brown; I do not quite understand who you are referring to." The woman pointed her finger at Natasha and hissed

"_Her"_

"Agent Brown, I still do not understand you. Agent Romanoff is in training to become an Agent. If I may quote the SHIELD regulations handbook, chapter 5, section 7, line 2 states that '_Any individual whom has a previous recorded, shall have it wiped clean and have amnesty granted after such individual had been cleared for training._' Therefore Agent Romanoff will not be referred to as a criminal in my class. Understood?" Agent Brown answered yes but still continued to glare at Natasha throughout the other questions the newbie's asked.

Once they were done with questions, the instructor picked up a knife with a longer blade and held it up for the class.

"This here is a well balanced throwing knife. When used properly, it can disarm, or even kill your opponent." The instructor then walked them through how to throw and then demonstrated. The knife hit several inches off center on the bulls-eye about 20 feet away. The class was impressed while Natasha smirked.

"Could I try?" She asked from what seemed like a wall of people.

"Sure, everyone will, but you can go first." Agent Wilson responded.

Natalia picked up the knife, getting used to the feel. She held it upside down and swung it between 2 fingers to get used to the balance. After about 15 more seconds of examining the knife, there were several laughs behind her.

"_I bet she can't even hit the target"_

"_I bet she drops it."_

"_I hope she misses"_ were all heard behind her. Suddenly Natasha stops, turns around and walks 10 feet further back than the instructor did. Agent Wilson spoke suddenly

"Once you have thrown and hit at least one of the inner 3 rings, you may leave for today."

Natasha turned towards her target. She twirled the knife around her right hand very quickly several times before throwing it with deadly accuracy. She didn't even look at the target as she walked out of the room. Before she was out the door she heard a _thump_ followed by several gasps.

It hit. Dead center.

**Later that day….**

Basic Agent training was possibly the most boring thing Natasha had ever done. Knives were a joke, swimming challenges with Agent Harris was ridiculously easy. In about a half hour, she had to meet with her handler, Coulson, to go over training reports for the day. This was another last minute requirement made by the Council. They wanted to know what she did every single day until she had officially passed Basic, Junior, and Senior Agent level training. Hopefully she would finish basic training this week by getting tested early.

If this was how all levels were, she was going to be bored out of her mind for a few months. Natasha walked down the hall towards the small conference room where Agent Coulson would be waiting. She entered and immediately sat down in the only chair facing the door. Old habits die hard, especially for Natasha Romanoff.

"Agent Romanoff"

"Agent Coulson" They both said in way of greeting. Coulson immediately got down to business.

"Daily Activities?"

"Well I had knife training first which was an absolute joke, I can't believe I have to go through that class, but I was the first to finish and leave. Then there was swimming with Agent Harris, I also got to leave early. In between I've been in the gym, working on flexibility and acrobatics." Coulson's eyes widened slightly.

"Well let's take a look at the tapes then" when watching knife throwing he looked surprised. Swimming had the same result.

"Agent Romanoff, would you rather be tested for basic Agents skills now and start Junior level training tomorrow?" Coulson asked. Natasha immediately nodded her head.

"Let's go then." The walk to the testing gym was quiet, neither much for small talk with people they hardly knew. Natasha not one for small talk at all.

Once in the gym, they tested knife skills, basic hand to hand with an Agent sent to help with tests. She wiped the floor with his ass. He was down and pinned in all of 10 seconds. Natasha stood up triumphantly. Swimming she passed with flying colors. They finished with a timed 5 mile run. Again, Natasha passed. She'd even beaten her old time of 4:25 per mile average, and gotten a 4:13 per mile average this time.

"Well you've passed Basic Agent training with flying colors. I will send this to Director Fury who will be pleased. Tomorrow you will meet Dr. Lopez in medical at 9am to be more thoroughly evaluated before you can begin Junior Agent training. Goodnight Agent Romanoff." Coulson said before leaving. Natasha was surprised. No one had ever told her to have a 'good night' before.

After Coulson left, Natasha headed for the gym with the gymnastics stuff in it. That was one of her favorite ways to train. The gym wasn't too crowded, which was good because Natasha usually cleared busy rooms in a matter of minutes. Hopefully if she slipped in, no one would pay her much attention.

She didn't see anyone she recognized until she looked over in the corner to see a punching bag being beaten up on. It was Agent Barton, the man who had saved her. Hopefully she would be able to avoid him and everyone else who may try to talk to her. Coulson was the exception to Natasha otherwise guarded walls. That man made her want to be kind to him, and to answer in a respectful way.

She chalked and taped her hands this time before jumping up to the first uneven bar. Around and around she spun, getting lost in her special place for a few moments. Natasha was able to do routines that Olympic medalists would be jealous of. Getting tired, she poised for release and jumped off in a double flip twist. When she landed, Natasha noticed that almost everyone had their eyes on her. She looked up and saw Agent Barton staring at her with almost concealed admiration. Stepping away, she sat down and stretched while the other people in the room went back to what they were doing.

She thought they would all leave her alone, but someone proved otherwise when she felt footsteps on the mat she was now on. Looking up she saw Agent Barton coming closer. She tried to stare him down so he would be intimidated and go away, yet he just raised one eyebrow and smirked.

"Agent Barton" Natasha greeted, letting out a sigh of exasperation that he just had to come talk to her.

"Nice moves back there Romanoff. They have Olympic gymnasts teaching you back in Russia?" He asked sarcastically with a smirk on his face. Natasha's eyes narrowed as she answered the question in a cool and collected tone even though she wanted to break his nose.

"Where I come from, we have better than Olympic medalists. And there, it's learn or die." Clint looked at her in wonder. This girl was 16 and she endured way more shit than any 16 year old should have to. He immediately brightened the tone

"Well look at you Ms. Acrobat. Wanna spar with me?" He asked hopefully. Clint hadn't had a worthy opponent since he'd been brought to SHIELD, except for Fury maybe. But no, he couldn't spar with the Director, Coulson said. It might cause him to be put on a termination list, Coulson said.

"Why not?" She told him. If she was honest with herself, she missed fighting too.

"Well I'm not going to give you reasons not to, so let's go!" He said cheekily, offering his hand to help her up. Instead of taking it, she instead flipped to her feet and headed for the sparring ring, Barton on her heels after dropping his hand back.

Both taped their knuckles and stood facing each other. Clint began to slowly circle towards her right, giving Natasha the opportunity to swing a kick at his left side, but almost as if he was expecting it, Clint caught her foot and tried to take her down that way. But Natasha Romanoff was a force to be reckoned with, and she proceeded to flip her body around his waist, ending up behind him.

Clint quickly spun around, only to find her on his right side, taking a swing at his ribs, and he couldn't catch that one in time. And _damn _she hit hard. As his hands flew to the blow she got in on his side, she tackled him from the same side, bring them to the mat. Natasha quickly pinned him down, interlocking his arms and legs in a way so he couldn't flip them or really move too much for that matter.

Natasha leaned towards his ear and whispered

"I win."

**Sooo?**

**Did you guys like it?  
**

**Please R&R **

**Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Hey guys, thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews, it's really awesome to see those!**

**Wow, I can't believe its already been 10 chapters now. My how time flies.**

**Anyways, I don't own Marvel or any of their characters/origins**

**Enjoy!**

Natasha left Clint on the mat breathless as she walked away and out the door. It was then that he realized that he hadn't landed a single hit on her. The entire thing had lasted all of 2 minutes from start to pin, yet here he was, lying on his ass on the mat. Only three other Agents had been in the gym when the spar began. Now, all 3 were crowding the ring with gaping mouths. No one had ever beaten Clint at SHIELD, ever.

Now this new girl, the famed Black Widow comes in and kicks his ass in a couple minutes?

"I'll get you next time Romanoff!" He yelled right before the door closed from where she walked out. He could almost swear she added extra swing to her hips to mess with him. Clint laid his head back down, trying to figure out exactly when she had him beat.

**Meanwhile with Natasha…**

When she walked out the door, Natasha made sure to add swing in her step walking away. That was the icing on the cake to her beating him so quick. She also knew that his ego wouldn't allow him to stay away for long, so she would be prepared next time as well.

It was already 9pm now, so she headed towards the cafeteria to grab a late dinner to go. She never was one for socializing. Natasha grabbed a bowl of mashed potatoes and a water bottle and was almost out the door when she heard someone say

"_She's the one who beat Barton_" Damn she thought. Had the story spread that quickly? She saw one Agent pull out his phone and say

"_Look what Agent White sent me; this girl kicked his ass in 2 minutes!_"

Natasha smiled and kept walking. Oh it would be fun once he found out everyone knew he got beaten.

She finished eating in her room, showered and went to bed, but she knew sleep would not come easy, not after last night.

**In Clint's room…**

He had just finished eating his dinner that consisted of an unholy amount of food and he decided to take a quick shower before heading to bed.

Eventually around 1am his own nightmares woke him, and he knew the only way to fix it was to go to the gym. On his way there, he had to pass Natasha's room, and he was almost past it when he faintly heard a scream from inside. He paused, walked back and listened again. A few seconds later he heard it again. 'She must be having nightmares too' he thought.

Clint tried the door handle, but he already figured it would be locked, so he decided to wake her up from the terror a more indirect route. He pulled out his SHIELD phone and searched through the directory for her number. Calling it from a 'blocked number' (*67), Clint let it ring.

It was standard protocol for all SHIELD phones to ring when a Senior Agent, like Barton, called. Even though he blocked the number, it still recognized the Agent status. After a few seconds, he finally heard her phone ring. There was a small whimper before the next ring. After a few more, she picked up the phone.

"Romanoff." She said in a calm and collected voice with a hint of relief. Clint immediately hung up and ran down the hall towards the gym before she could open her door.

* * *

Natasha had been in the throes of another horrible nightmare when she faintly heard a ringing sound. Focusing on that as opposed to the nightmare, she quickly came into awareness, a skill that had proven very useful in the past. Still shaking from the nightmare, she took a moment to collect herself, yet feeling relieved someone had called her. On the other hand, she was wondering what the hell anyone needed this early in the morning. After she calmed down her voice, she picked up and smoothly said

"Romanoff" yet she was met with a dead line. She suspiciously looked around her room. She already saw that the number was blocked, but still wanted to see if she could find out who it was anyways. Seeing no one in her room, Natasha picked up her gun and went to the door. She leant the side of her head against the cool metal, trying to see if she could hear anyone on the other side. Hearing nothing, she quickly threw the door open and raised her gun. Inching into the hallway, eyes peeled for danger, she lowered her weapon slightly. There was no one out there.

Sighing and mentally blaming some newbie prankster, she pulled on shorts and a tee shirt to head to the gym. Natasha already knew that sleeping wouldn't be much of an option tonight. But then again, was it ever?

* * *

Clint was in the gym, already attacking a punching bag when he sensed more than heard her come in.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"I'm sure you can guess the answer considering that I'm here right now." She responded rolling her eyes. He obviously already knew the answer.

"Hey now, no need for the attitude "

"_Don't call me that_." Natasha said in a dangerous voice. No one ever called her anything but her first name in Russia, even more often used was her code name.

"Fine, whatever you say Nat." He responded easily with a grin. It was just now that he turned around to face a very angry Russian. Her bright green eyes were glaring daggers at him, her dark red curls wild from sleep. Her petite frame only came up to his shoulders, yet she still managed to look intimidating.

To any normal human being that is. Now most people would tell you that the first thing they noticed about Natasha was her hair, and then her body. And she had an incredible one, but what really had Clint stuck were the eyes. He could swear they were the brightest green he had ever seen in eyes.

"_What_ did you call me?" She asked, standing on her tip toes and moving closer with a dangerous look. Without waiting for him to answer, she spoke again. "You call me Agent Romanoff, or just Romanoff. There are no first names, nick names, or abbreviations."

"But those all sound so formal, and I am anything but." He responded "Natasha would be a fair trade, and if not, I can come up with sooo many more than those two."

"_Fine_." She responded, angrily stomping towards the gymnastic equipment, easily falling back into routine flips and twists. Clint called across the gym after about 10 minutes

"You aren't the only one who can do that stuff you know."

"Who else can?" She responded skeptically. Clint began walking over and told her

"I can." He stood under the rings. Jumping up to grab them was easy and practiced for Clint. He had grown up in the circus after all. He hoisted his body up until it was perfectly vertical. He held it for about 10 seconds, before beginning a difficult series of flips and twists. Swinging forward, he released and moved into a roll to soften the blow.

"Not _terrible, _but not terrific." She said.

"Oh my, is that a complement hidden as an insult? My, my, consider my heart warmed." Barton shoots back while rolling his grey-blue eyes.

"Don't get your panties in a knot. It was most definitely not a complement. " Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. He knew he was good, maybe not as good as her, but still, pretty good.

Natasha got tired of the conversation and walked away from him and towards the stairs leading to the indoor track. She wanted to run. Running was easy and mindless. Running she could handle. Arguing with an annoying archer, she'd rather not.

Unfortunately for her, that irritating archer wanted to run too. She quickly picked up speed, and to her surprise he came pretty close to her current speed. Natasha wasn't worried though, she could run for miles without getting winded. But as annoying as Clint Barton may be, she could still enjoy her run, right? Natasha yelled over her shoulder

"Catch me if you can!" And off they went, until eventually after 3 miles, Natasha felt a hand grip her shoulder, causing her to slow down. Clint turned her towards him, and leant to whisper in her ear

"Gotcha."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Hey guys, sorry I didn't post this one yesterday, I finished writing it around 10:30 or so, so I decided to wait until today**

**I hope you guys like this one, it offers a little more insight into Natasha's past as I've talked about thus far**

**Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed, and especially to 'It's all about Dance', she saw this chapter and helped some on it, and I'm very grateful.**

**I don't own Marvel or any origins/characters**

**Enjoy!**

That morning, Natasha woke up feeling relaxed, which was unusual for her, considering her past. The Red Room used to wake its trainee's up in unusual ways. Ice water, setting bed sheets on fire, and setting off incredibly loud alarms at ear damaging volumes.

She looked over at her alarm clock, it was only 6am, but she had to be in medical by 9, so Natasha quickly got up, showered, and threw some clothes on. She was only dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, but Natasha felt ready for the day. She pulled her long hair up into a high pony tail, to keep it out of her way while she had her medical exam done.

Ugh, Natasha hated being in hospitals and around doctors. The smell and the obsessive cleanliness got to her.

She left her room and locked her door. The walk to medical was the longest one she's ever taken on her own while on the Helicarrier, on the complete other side of the airship than her room. They wouldn't get any complaints from her there.

By the time Natasha had taken a detour to the cafeteria to get a small breakfast that consisted of a bowl of fruit, and gotten the medical, it was already ten till 9. She checked in and sat in the waiting area. She began counting floor tiles in her head to pass the time. She saw one other Agent in the waiting area texting, but Natasha didn't have anyone to talk to, nor did she want to, so counting it was. About 15 minutes later they called her name and Natasha was seated on an exam table in a private room. The doctor walked in not much later.

"Hello My name is Dr. Lopez, and you must be Natasha." Natasha nodded. "Well let's get started now shall we?"

* * *

Phil Coulson had heard the news that morning and couldn't believe it at first. Someone had beaten Clint? No one had been able to pin him since he'd arrived at SHIELD. He headed towards the shooting range after not finding him in the cafeteria. Phil walked in and immediately saw Clint. He also heard him too. _Bang. Bang. Bang__**. **_

"I heard you got your ass kicked yesterday." Clint didn't even need to turn around to respond.

"I heard you couldn't keep your hands off an ass yesterday…Maria was pretty loud you know…" He shot back with a shit eating grin.

"_HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT?!" _Coulson practically squealed.

"I've known since you two started sneaking around in secret about 6 months ago. You aren't all that discreet with those looks you give each other."

"You, you, UGH! And for your information, last night wasn't planned, smart ass. Hill had come by to discuss some matters and decided to stay. We are two legally consenting adu-"

"Don't worry about it Coulson, I won't tell Fury your dirty little secret." Coulson narrowed his eyes, sensing a deal coming into play. "If you write all the mission reports for the next 4 months" Clint said with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Deal, but going back to why I came to find you, Clint, you can't spar with her!"

"And why not? She's the first decent partner I've had since I got here and you know it!"

"She could've killed you!"

"But she didn't…" Clint said, sighing in exasperation.

"It's a possibility."

"Coulson. She surrendered to me, put her own damn handcuffs on, has passed training at an incredible speed, and been on her best behavior. Someone who goes through all of that won't throw it away on killing me. Plus it was fun. I hadn't seen her smile once since she's gotten here, until last night while sparring."

"Just be careful, Clint."

"Okay, DAD"

Coulson sighed and walked away. He might come close, but he will never quite understand the archer, no matter how hard he tried.

After Coulson left, Clint went in search of information. Information that he knew Coulson wasn't allowed to give him. Clint wouldn't put Phil in that position willingly. But Clint wanted the information, and he was determined to find it.

Barton left in order to head to the information storage room, which he knew the codes to. Secretly of course. If Fury had any clue that Barton knew the codes, he'd most likely have them changed. Upon arriving at the room, he easily punched the numbers in _63582-947-81._

He moved silently and quickly, knowing he would have to be fast before someone noticed him missing. He eventually located the file, five minutes later than he would have wanted. _Natasha Romanoff (Natalia Romanov)_ was right on the front. He opened it and began reading what little writing was there yet.

* * *

Natasha had just completed the physical portion of the exam and a nurse came in and drew four vials of blood.

"Is there anything we should know about your blood before we test it? To make the lab technicians' job a bit easier?"

"I can't tell you what exactly, but the place I used to be at injected something into my blood. They only called them enhancers. I know that they make me faster, stronger, and I heal at an abnormally quick rate."

"Alright Ms. Romanoff, could you please tell me about any past injuries you may have been sustained?" Natasha held back a snort. Well she'd be in here forever now.

"I've been shot in my right shoulder twice, my left once, at least once in each leg, stabbed in the shoulder blade, stomach, and legs multiple times. Two concussions and I broke my ankle once in a fight. Many toes have been broken, along with ribs and fingers. " Dr. Lopez's eyes nearly shot out of her head once Natasha had finished. She'd had many Agents come through with serious injuries, yet this was exceptional, especially for a 17 year old girl.

"Has there been any internal damage done that we should know about?" Dr. Lopez asked. Natasha's eyes darkened and suddenly the room became too small. "If you'd rather say 'none that you knew of', you don't have to mention anything… " She offered. She knew what some female Agents had been through in their lifetimes, and it would not shock her if this young girl in front of her had too.

Natasha just nodded her head slowly. She needed to get out of there, the smell of antiseptic was becoming too strong, and it felt like she was choking.

"You may go now if you wish." Before the doctor had even finished her sentence, Natasha was out and flying through the halls, headed right towards her room where she could lock herself away and forget.

* * *

**30 minutes later…**

Clint marched towards Natasha's room with one purpose in mind. Why hadn't she told him yesterday that it was her birthday? He'll bet that no one told her to 'Have a Happy Birthday' because she refused to tell anyone. Clint reached her door and rapped shortly three times, hoping she would open the door because it sounded official.

Suddenly he found the door being flung open and a gun pointed between his eyes.

"What the hell Romanoff? Watch where you're pointing that thing." She lowered the gun slightly, but didn't replace it in its holster until she checked the hallway for danger. "We're on a damn SHIELD base for God's sake; you can leave your gun in its holster when you open a damn door."

"I didn't know it was you." She said simply. How was she supposed to know? Considering her past, she could never trust that the person behind that door wouldn't harm her, or attempt to harm her that is.

"Well aside from almost shooting me, what are you up to?"

"Why do you care?" She asked suspiciously.

"Well I was going to come by and tell you 'Happy Birthday' or rather, 'Belated Birthday'. Why didn't you tell me yesterday about it?"

"Why do you need to know or care?" She shot back. Why would anyone want to wish her a 'Happy Birthday'? She didn't ask for it, and no one here really liked her enough to care either.

"Well for one, if you pass exams, I'm going to be your partner, and I'd like to know how old my partner is. Plus, everyone deserves at least one 'Happy Birthday' during the day."

"Was there anything else you wanted?" She asked warily. Why did he have to interrupt her thinking, or not thinking more or less?

"Wanna go spar? I need to at least attempt to regain some of my dignity after yesterday…" He didn't need to say more. She loved sparring, but no one here but he wanted to do so with her. It was obvious by the looks she received whilst in the gym training, and she certainly wasn't going to willingly bother him and add to the list of nice things he's done for her. So when someone offered, Natasha had all intentions of accepting.

Natasha had so much pent up emotion inside her from medical reminding her of her past that she was ready to let it all out.

He'd better prepare for the ass-whooping of his life.

**Hey guys, I hope you all liked this one, next chapter will cover their sparring match *cough cough ass-whooping cough cough* and hopefully the rest of Natasha's training.**

**Please R&R **

**Thanks!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Okay so this chapter covers almost all of Natasha's training, so hopefully we can get into more partnership stuff soon**

**Special shout outs to 'It's All About Dance' and 'DancesWithWolves10' they are both super awesome.**

**I don't own Marvel or any of their characters/origins/canon stuff**

**Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed!**

**Enjoy!**

Natasha Romanoff loved a good fight, and boy was Barton giving it to her. It seemed that he was giving it his all this time, and she was fighting full force too. All of her efforts went into blocking his blows, and trying to land her own. The thing was, Barton was experienced, 2 more years than she was. Her training might've been harder for those years in the Red Room, but it appeared he could handle himself pretty good.

'At least I don't have an incompetent moron as my future partner' she thought. Natasha would refuse to go into the field with someone who couldn't handle getting them home alive, and the more time she spent with Barton, the more sure she was that it would work.

"You getting tired yet?" He taunted at her. His mistake. In the distraction of making the taunt, he had taken his eyes off of her, and before he knew it, Natasha had launched herself over his head, using his shoulders for balance. He turned around but it was too late. Natasha swung a roundhouse kick to his side, and all he had time to do was block some of the force with his forearm.

"Shit, that hurt Romanoff." Has he really not learned from his last mistake yet? Using all the strength in her legs, Natasha launched her tiny body through the air, thighs wrapping around his muscular torso, and throwing them to the ground. She used her momentum to swing his body around, so she landed on him and not visa-versa.

"Pin" She said smirking as she trapped his arms to his sides with her thighs.

"Fine, now can you please get off?" He grunted, Natasha was by no means heavy, but having her land on his chest had knocked the wind out of his lungs.

She got off and made her way towards a towel rack. Natasha was about to grab one for herself when she paused. It wouldn't kill her to play nice and get one for Barton too, would it? She didn't want to think about it for too long. She quickly grabbed a second towel and walked back over to where he was laying like a dead fish on the sparring mat. She threw the towel at him, hitting him in the head. All he did was groan as he raised his arm to grab it. Jesus, she wasn't even trying to hit him THAT hard.

"I could've cracked your ribs right there, but I didn't." she told him, sounding proud of herself.

"I'll take that as a compliment then?" He asked, wincing slightly as he got up.

"It wasn't." She said, walking towards the door. She wanted a shower and wanted to take it before her psychological exams in an hour. Natasha needed time to prepare for those, Lord only knows what they're going to make her talk about.

"Thanks for the towel by the way." He said as she walked out the door. He would've thought she didn't hear him, but as she walked out the door, he could see the corners of her mouth pulled slightly up when she turned.

* * *

Natasha darted out of the SHIELD Psych Wing. She didn't have the answers to many of the questions they asked, and other questions were just too painful to answer. Her exam was over, and she passed, but Natasha hoped she never had to go in there again. Ever.

She ran right to her room to get changed for Junior Agent testing that began today. Natasha was excited because Coulson managed to get her out of training and straight into testing. The Junior Agent exams consisted of two categories. Physical and written. Coulson had already told her that she wouldn't have any problems but that yes, she still had to take them.

When Coulson had first requested that Natasha go right into testing, Fury had disagreed. All it took was the video surveillance of her sparring match with Barton and the video of knife training for him to give in.

Natasha didn't bother with a shower this time, instead pulling her hair up into a bun and washing her face in the sink. She changed into the blue SHIELD cat suit she had to wear for today and laced up her combat boots. Slipping into a cat suit again was an awesome feeling for Natasha. It helped her get pumped up for whatever task was next at hand.

Today it happened to be Junior Agent testing.

Natasha left her room after locking the door, and headed towards the testing gym. She had almost made the door without anyone acknowledging her presence aside from a few glares, until Clint Barton showed up. Oh no, he was NOT going to come into the testing gym. She did not need to be distracted by him.

"Where do you think you're going little Ms. I can kick everyone's ass at everything?"

"Junior Agent testing, which why I'm going into the testing gym." She stated, trying to push past him into the gym. Too bad Clint was having none of that. He stopped her from entering, planning on chatting for a few moments, when suddenly his eyes flashed with an idea. He slowly began to smile when his plan became more developed in his mind.

"Welcome to class Ms. Romanoff, I'm Agent Barton, and I will be testing you today." Clint said, shit-eating grin growing even wider when he took in her response. Natasha just growled in annoyance and quickly slid under his legs and popped the door open. She tried closing it as soon as she was inside, but when Clint began trying to force it open, her small body just couldn't hold him off.

Clint could vaguely hear Natasha muttering words under her breath that sounded concerning close to _dumbass American archers have death wishes._

Clint stepped further into the gym and tapped the original evaluator on the shoulder. Barton whispered something in the Agent's ear, and without explanation, their evaluator just left.

It was then that Clint decided that it would be a good time to speak.

"Alright Agents, on the paper by the door, you will see that you have an assigned partner for the duration of testing on self defense. You will spar together later on, so I suggest finding out who your partner is." The class all rushed to the door to check out names, leaving Natasha alone when Barton approaches her. "Agent Romanoff, why aren't you finding your assigned partner?"

"Because I checked when I came in. I already know who I have."

"And who would that be?" Clint asked back.

"Agent Lewis." Said Agent had just returned from checking the list. Natasha could swear the kid was at least five shades more pale than when he first walked into the room. She couldn't even hold back her smirk this time.

"Good, now everyone come back!" Immediately the Agents ran over and looked to Clint. He only said one word

"Spar."

* * *

After sparring, that of which was pitifully quick for Natasha's partner, the group moved onto the running track. There were several Agents bruised up and hot from their spar, but Natasha didn't have a hair out of place, and didn't even break a sweat. Now they had to make time of at least a 6 minute mile average, for four miles.

Barton blew the whistle to start, and began the timer on the wall. Natasha took off and quickly passed her whole class, and she was still gaining ground. After the two mile mark, Natasha actually lapped the majority of her class, and kept doing so until her four miles were up.

She went up to report her time to Barton, but he was already writing it down.

"17 minutes and 38 seconds, not bad Agent Romanoff." He said to her as she grabbed a water bottle.

"Then closest Agent to me will have a time around 21 minutes when he finishes."

"Oh will he now?" Agent Barton teased her back. There was no way Romanoff could know that, the Agent closest to her still had half a mile left.

"Yes." She said simply, walking away and sitting down on a bench off to the side of the track. Agent Barton followed her with his eyes, yet didn't move from where he was.

After about 2 minutes, low and behold, the Agent behind Natasha finished with a time of 20 minutes and 57 seconds. When he reported his time to Clint, Natasha wished she would've brought a camera to capture the look on his face. When Barton stopped gaping at his report sheet, he turned to look towards her. His face was shock and amazement. Though Natasha didn't know why he was so amazed, everyone she trained with in the Red Room could do similar calculations with speed and distance.

Agent Barton had eventually turned back to the class who was finishing their run in what could only be described as a mob. They immediately stormed Barton, trying to make sure he had their time right, yelling at him and pushing each other. He bore it all with a professional face, yet Natasha could see he was mildly annoyed by the look in his eyes.

She quirked the side of her mouth up into a smile, finding humor in his annoyance. What did he expect? Most of the people here were in their early twenties, practically still children. They all still had a lot to learn about this lifestyle.

* * *

The rest of the physical training went by in a blur, Natasha always finishing first in her class in each activity test. After they finished with the last physical test-swimming, they headed to a room with individual tables and chairs. Agent Barton spoke up

"The written test will be handed out shortly, please find a seat."

Natasha located a table across the room in the back. Perfect, no one would bother her and she wouldn't be bothering anyone else. She moved across the room quickly and was just about to sit down when Barton spoke up again

"Agent Romanoff, please move closer to the front, there's no need to be sitting so far away in that dusty old corner." He said with a smirk. She shot a glare that should kill and looked for a different table. Her eyes landed on the only other open table. It was dead center in the front of the room. She gave him a murderous glare and walked past him to get to the table muttering in Russian.

He turned towards her and also spoke in Russian

"_I may not be fluent in Russian, but I know enough to know that there is no way that was PG_"

"_Your accent sucks" _She told him. By this point, the entire class was watching them intently. The air between Barton and Romanoff was electric, drawing all the attention towards it.

"_This conversation should probably be continued somewhere else._" He said with a wink. The class might not know Russian, but everyone saw the wink. And the second Clint did it, the entire room gasped. Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing that this just proves her point about the class being children.

Clint turned and walked towards a small file cabinet, unlocked the top drawer, and pulled out the tests. He passed them out, pausing at Natasha's table to wink at her again with a sarcastic smirk. She simply sent him another ice-cold 'Natasha is un-amused' look. Once she got her test, she looked down at question 1 and smiled. These people should've seen the tests she'd had in the past. It would make this test look like a first grade spelling exam.

* * *

Once she finished her test, Natasha folded her test into a paper airplane and threw it at Barton's head that was down on his desk that faced the classroom. By the time it hit his head, she was already out of her chair and walking towards the door. And by the time he realized whose test it was, she was already out the door.

Natasha Romanoff wanted a shower, and she'd be damned if she was going to wait in that room for everyone to finish before she could leave. She walked quickly back to her room and peeled of the cat suit that felt like a second skin.

Once in the shower, Natasha stood under the hot water for what felt like ages. In reality, the shower only lasted 20 minutes. Feeling refreshed, Natasha pulled her hair up and threw on sweats and a tee-shirt and headed towards the cafeteria.

Once she arrived there, Natasha grabbed a sandwich and began searching for an empty table. While looking around, she met some nasty glares that just screamed 'don't even think about sitting here'. She eventually found a small four person table that was empty and quickly sat down. She'd like to see Barton try to make her move towards the front now.

When she was about halfway done with her sandwich, Agent Coulson walked into the room. He appeared to be searching for someone when his eyes landed on her. He moved across the room towards her table, and took a seat across from her.

"How was testing?" He asked seriously.

"A joke. Man, you guys make those tests way too easy. Even a monkey could pass those things."

"Agent Barton said almost the same thing when he was recruited." Coulson said with an indefinable look on his face.

"What did he say?" She asked, raising one eyebrow.

"He said and I quote "Coulson, a pack of wild gorillas could take those damn things and pass.""

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him to shut his damn mouth because Fury was behind him." At that, Natasha snorted. Why did that not surprise her? "Anyways, we should have those test results back soon enough, for now you can relax, but when we find out you passed, you will immediately be put into testing for Senior Agents, okay?"

Natasha nodded and asked one more question.

"How was Agent Barton recruited?"

**So how was that ending?**

**Please R&R**

**Thanks!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N hey guys, sorry it took me an extra day to get this chapter out, I had mild writers block on Sunday. **

**Thank you to everyone who faved, followed, or reviewed this story, it means a lot to me as a writer, and helps me learn where you guys want the story to go, and how you think it's going, so thanks!**

**HUGE shout out to my not quite official beta 'Its all about dance' she's super awesome! (and sorry for text bombing you...)**

**Another HUGE shout out to 'DancesWithWolves10', I really appreciate your input and critiques/reviews!**

**I don't own Marvel or their characters**

**Enjoy!**

Coulson just stared at Natasha. She maintained eye contact and kept staring right back at him. Coulson knew that the basic story of how Clint was recruited was no secret, but the deeper secrets would have to be Clint's to tell.

"Two years ago, I was sent to either bring the assassin known as Hawkeye in, or if he put up a fight, to kill him. For a full year, I tracked him all over the world." Natasha raised her eyebrow at that. "Hey now, for a 16 year old kid, he was resourceful, catching private fishing boats, planes, stealing cars, and for a lot of the time, he just walked around in disguise."

"For a good majority of that first year, I would find places he's been, missing him by days, even hours. He knew someone was tracking him, but he had no idea that the people tracking him were the good guys. As an assassin for hire, he was making big money, from the wrong people. "

"He eventually made a mistake, and he became reckless." Upon hearing this, Natasha cut in

"What was his mistake?" Coulson knew he couldn't answer that one exactly how it happened. That was one of the biggest regrets of Clint's life and he couldn't tell Natasha without his permission.

"He made the wrong call on a target." Noticing the look in Coulson's eyes, Natasha let the subject drop. She wanted to know what happened, but she also knew that pushing Coulson for information like that might cause problems. She nodded.

"He ended staying in a shitty motel in France for a day too long. I found his room and waited for him to leave. I followed him into an alley, thinking he didn't know I knew he was there. He did." Coulson admitted almost sheepishly. "Clint spoke without turning around. He said 'I know you're there, you've been following me for a while now. Your mistake.' And he proceeded to turn around and start a fight. I knew my orders were to kill him if he was too volatile, and my first instinct was to shoot him dead where he stood."

"But I saw something that made me stop and think. And then I proceeded to kick his sorry little ass until I had my gun pointed at his forehead. When he stopped, I gave him a choice. I said 'You can either turn your life around now, or die.' Sounds harsh right? Well it broke through his abnormally thick skull and he came back to the United States with me. Since he was pre-approved for being brought in as an asset, he went through a slightly different process than you. Although he still had to take the 'easy' tests through Senior Agent level."

Natasha didn't speak for a few moments, only nodding her head in acknowledgement. She knew he was recruited in an abnormal way, but she hadn't realized it was so similar to the way she was recruited.

At that moment, Assistant Director Maria Hill walked into the cafeteria and over to where Natasha and Coulson were sitting.

"Here are the results Phil." She said, standing a little closer to Coulson's chair than necessary.

"Thanks Maria, I appreciate it" Coulson said, letting his eyes linger on hers for a few moments longer than what most people would consider appropriate. As Maria walked away, Natasha noticed her hand graze Coulson's shoulder. She kept a straight face, knowing the two were most likely trying to hide whatever relationship they had.

Relationships with other Agents were dangerous. Compromised Agents can't be out in the field together. It makes them reckless and dangerous to be around. Natasha knew all too well what happened to Agents who believed in love and friendship. It ruined them.

Phil Coulson opened the file and about 30 seconds in, his eyes widened ever so slightly, yet he managed a calm voice when he spoke.

"Almost every score on here beats all previous records by a landslide. You even beat all of Barton's scores except for 1."

"And which score would that be?" She asked.

"Marksmanship. Your score is only half a point lower than his. And his are ridiculously high to begin with, so needless to say, you passed. The next Senior Agent written exam is being given in 45 minutes in the same room the Junior Agent exam was." Even though she wasn't surprised, Natasha gave Coulson a rare smile of true happiness and left the cafeteria.

* * *

Phil Coulson half jogged around the Helicarrier trying to find Clint, and he was getting mildly frustrated that he hadn't found him yet. God help him if the kid was up in the vents laughing at him. Phil was about to stop looking and just call the damn kid when he thought of one more place the archer could be.

SHIELD knew its agents would get bored in between missions, and nothing is worse than hundreds of bored agents stuck in one place at the same time. They could get very creative in keeping busy.

So SHIELD made sure that every single base had at least one library, fully stocked at all times. When Clint was first recruited, the two main places Coulson could find him in were the gym and the library. He didn't think the archer had spent much time in there recently, but decided to check anyways.

Low and behold, in the historical espionage section, he found Clint, going over a book called _Espionage and Russia- A History. _Clint knew that Coulson was there, but he waited for Phil to speak first.

"That's an interesting choice of reading material." Coulson stated.

"It never mentions the Red Room, Coulson; I can't find reference to it anywhere." Clint stated in mild distress.

"Places like that are hidden for good reasons. It's a horrible place, Clint."

"Well I need to know."

"Why? When Natasha is ready, if she ever is, she'll tell you herself. Speaking of back stories, she was asking about yours. "

"What did you tell her?"

"The standard version that everyone knows about, I didn't give any specifics." Coulson said, putting Clint's mind more at ease.

"Thanks, Phil, now what's the real reason you came here?" Clint asked with a knowing look. The archer knew Coulson all too well.

"Here's her test results. They're incredible, they beat all previous records except for marksmanship, you're still the top in that, but she's only half a point lower than your initial test record." Clint looked over her file, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Well _damn, _Coulson."

"I know. She's hopefully going to be one of SHIELD's best." Coulson took the file back from Clint. "But you need to let her tell you about the Red Room herself. If she finds out you've been snooping in her past, she'll be pissed."

"I know, thanks Coulson. I'm going to head down to the gym, you up for a run?"

"Is the answer ever no?" Coulson asked and Clint smiled.

* * *

Natasha sat down at a table in the back, yet no too far to where she could get called out by dumbass archers with death wishes.

"Alright, no talking, you can leave when you finish" the assigned supervisory Agent said as they passed out the written exams. When Natasha took a quick look over the test, she realized that there were five sections. Five very long, probably boring sections. Man, this test was so long, it almost classified as a novel. Weapons, poisons, espionage, anti-interrogation, and interrogation all made it onto the test.

It was going to be a long few hours.

* * *

When Natasha was done with her test, it was already ten at night. The next group being tested for Senior Agent status levels would be tomorrow at noon. And besides, she was hungry and ready to go to bed. Natasha stopped by the cafeteria on the way to her room and grabbed a bowl of pasta she could re-heat. Or she could eat it cold. At this point, she couldn't care less.

After Natasha ate her pasta, she peeled her clothes off and fell into bed without a second thought of what tests the next day might hold.

* * *

Natasha woke up around 7am the next morning. As per the usual, she was woken in the middle of the night by her nightmares and worked them out in the gym. Although last night, Clint Barton had not visited the gym; after her workout, Natasha had then fallen back asleep around 4am.

Today was training day. Lucky Natasha. She absolutely hated the idea of spending an entire day with dumbass Junior Agents hoping to pass exams. She received enough death-glares in the hallways, thank you very much. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to see her written test evaluation until she completed the physical portion too.

She quickly showered and dressed in another blue SHIELD cat suit, strapping her weapons in place. She had received an e-mail to all Agents testing today, saying they should dress as if they were going on a search and destroy mission. Taking this very seriously, Natasha hid knives everywhere. She had to have at least 15 knives on her at the moment, including one hidden in her ponytail. She then strapped on both thigh holsters and put her favorite guns in them-her Glock 26's. She also strapped a Tokarev pistol to her right boot. Natasha then put on her fully loaded utility belt, and finally came the Widow's Bite bracelets.

Natasha smiled as she strapped them on. She may not be Russian anymore, but the bracelets felt familiar to her, and they were comforting in this new place. She pulled on her fingerless gloves and headed towards the testing gym.

* * *

About five minutes after Natasha settled in the gym, standing off to the side, the rest of the Agents up for testing filed in. For many of them, this would be their second attempt to pass. If they failed a second time, they would have to spend six more months as a Junior Agent before being allowed to test again-SHIELD protocol.

Natasha turned towards the back door when she heard it open. A man in SHIELD gear walked into the gym.

"My name is Agent Sitwell, and I will be testing you today."

**Agent Sitwell is an actual Marvel character, if you look closely at some of the Avengers Universe movies, you'll find him.**

**I hope you liked this chapter, next one should finish off her testing and begin her partnership with Clint**

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update, school's been a bitch.**

**I hope you guys all like this chapter, it was fun to write. **

**Thanks to everyone who faved, followed, or reviewed. It makes my day.**

**I don't own Marvel, etc, etc.**

**Enjoy!**

Agent Sitwell wasted no time in starting the testing process. Natasha quickly signed in and backed away from the group. Once everyone was signed in, he spoke

"First, we will begin with a timed maneuver through our indoor obstacle course. You have ten minutes to complete it." Natasha looked over the course. It started with twelve feel of stairs that led to a very narrow balance beam, at the end of which was a wall with fake windows about eight feet higher than the balance beam, and the goal was to climb the windowsills (that started lower) to get through one of the windows. The catch was that some were locked, or difficult to open. Once they crawled through the window they chose, there was scaffolding all the way back to the ground.

Once on the ground, the agents would have to swim through an ice water pool about fifty feet long. Once on the ground, there was an inclined winding path they would have to run up for about thirty feet. Next was the inverted stairs they would have to cross like monkey bars before they would touch on a raised platform. In order to finish, the agents would have to rappel down the side with a foot of rope and two climbing clips.

If the agents passed in the allotted time limit, they would move onto the next part of testing. If not, they would be sent back to be Junior Agents.

"Are there any volunteers to go first?" Sitwell asked. Natasha would normally step up first, but she wanted to see someone run the course first, and learn from their mistakes.

A small, short, blond woman stepped forward. The woman had on a cat suit similar to Natasha's, but this woman wore tennis shoes instead of boots. 'Dumb Americans' Natasha thought. The small mousy woman also didn't have any weapons on her except for a knife in a "hidden" pocket in her suit. She spoke up in a soft voice.

"I will." She stepped to the starting line.

"3…2…1…GO" Agent Sitwell shouted.

The woman took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When she got to the balance beam, she bent really low, trying to keep her balance, but she misplaced a foot and landed with the balance beam right between her legs. All the men in the class winced to themselves.

Instead of trying to finish walking it, the woman scooted the rest of the way across, keeping the balance beam between her legs. Natasha almost snorted at the sight.

After making it all the way across the balance beam, the woman jumped up on a windowsill and ripped open a window; it stuck, but she pushed until it opened. She threw her body through the window with so much force that she flew over the side of the scaffolding. Luckily for her, she caught the edge of a platform and it stopped her fall. Natasha watched and took a wild guess that this young Agent with almost no arm muscle dislocated her shoulder. 'Well swimming will be fun for her' Natasha thought.

The woman ran and jumped into the pool, but she could barely use her right arm because it was dislocated. It took her a good minute and a half to get across, and once she was out of the pool, she almost slipped because her tennis shoes had no grip on the ground.

Next was the winding stairs going up to the inverted ladder. The woman had no problem with the stairs, but when she reached the inverted stairs that had to be crossed like monkey bars, she jumped to grab the first bar. For a second, it appeared as if she would hold on, but then her hand slipped and she fell thirty feet to the ground. Thank god SHIELD had put trampoline-like nets at the bottom to catch those that fell.

Natasha rolled her eyes. The woman made a stupid mistake early on in the course, costing her the shot at being a Senior Agent. Natasha would not be making the same mistake. She removed her guns and placed them on the ground. She knew she couldn't get those wet. However she left all her knives and utility belt on. Before Agent Sitwell could ask, Natasha stepped forward

"I'll go." There were some snickers of laughter behind her.

She turned around and sent a glare that shut them up instantly. They knew how deadly Natasha was, and a good amount still believed that Natasha was a traitor sent to ruin SHIELD. Natasha rolled her eyes. Damn babies.

She stepped up to the start line, Sitwell yelled 'GO!' again and she took off. Natasha took the stairs two at a time at an incredible speed, making it up to the top. She ran quickly across the balance beam, not even pausing to catch her breath. Natasha quickly glanced up the wall full of windows. She wasn't going to go through the same window the blond lady used. She spotted a window about 7 feet up that had its pin unlocked.

She scaled the wall, using the windowsills to boost herself up. After opening the window, Natasha scurried through and onto the top platform of the scaffolding. Glancing down, Natasha made a choice. She grabbed the edge and threw her body over the side while still holding on. She dropped down to the next platform and repeated her earlier actions until she reached the bottom.

Next was the freezing pool. Joy. Steeling herself, Natasha took a big breath and dove in, quickly swimming to the other side. She hopped out (with plenty of traction) and started running up the stairs.

When she reached the top, Natasha examined the inverted stairs. She would have to jump for the first one, so she took a step back and ran for the edge. She easily grabbed the stair and began swinging across the open space, stair by stair.

All she had left to do was slide down the pole. Rope and the climbing clips would be great for anyone else. But she was Natasha damn Romanoff and she had gloves. Natasha gripped the pole and began sliding down, controlling her speed with her legs which gripped the pole beneath her. When she reached the bottom, she took off at a run to the finish line. She crossed the finish line and wasn't even out of breath.

Her entire testing group had their mouths wide open. Natasha looked up at the timer on the wall. 5 minutes 19 seconds. She didn't know if it was good or bad, so she worried a little bit internally. Natasha approached Agent Sitwell and asked if she passed onto the next part of training.

"Are you kidding? Of course you do. There are only a handful of people currently alive who can get a score like yours." Natasha smiled, this was _her_ element. Her happiness was quickly lost when she heard whispers behind her.

"The ugly Russian cockroach strikes again."

"God, is she even human?"

"I heard she's already slept with half the men here."

"I wouldn't doubt it, the little slut."

Natasha just remained calm and looked away from them, not wanting to kill them and ruin this job before it even began. Agent Sitwell had heard the last two comments and marched over to the two female Agents speaking.

"Agent Howey, I don't want to have to remind you again for harassment of other Agents. You were just put back on active duty after last month's incident. Do we want another?" Sitwell demanded.

"I…uh um well I.. Uh no." Agent Howey stammered. 'This Agent Sitwell guy must have some real pull around here' Natasha thought.

"Good. Now you're up." Sitwell finished. The rest of the class went, most of who just barely made the ten minute time limit. One other Agent made it in 8 minutes 34 seconds, and 5 Agents failed. No one even came close to beating Natasha.

* * *

"Alright, now we will move onto weapons testing. You will move around to stations and be tested at each one. The Agents at each station are to be treated with the utmost respect. Understood?" These were murmurs of agreement among the group. Agent Sitwell went across the large room to talk to the 'Station Agents'.

Agent Howey, who had just barely finished the course brushed past Natasha in an attempt to shove her. Reacting instantly, Natasha grabbed Howey's shoulder, spinning her around before throwing her on the ground. Natasha had a knife against her throat in seconds.

This threw the group into silence. Natasha slowly removed herself from Agent Howey's person and stepped back, never dropping the knife.

"What's your problem bitch?" Howey snarled.

"You're an egotistical shithead who can't help but be jealous because of how skilled those around you are." Natasha responded calmly.

"YOU BITCH!" Howey flew towards Natasha who easily deflected her to the ground…again.

"If you want to continue having your face slammed into the floor, please continue attempting to harm me." Natasha said in a sickly sweet voice before getting up and stepping away from Howey, who was still lying on the floor.

It was at that moment that Agent Sitwell decided to re-join the group.

"Agent Howey, get your ass off the floor. I understand you're tired, but this is not naptime." Sitwell said with a glare. Natasha just smirked at Howey who quickly got up. "Each of you should go to a different station; there are enough stations for everyone to be by themselves."

Natasha looked around the room. There were two different knife stations, two handgun stations, an explosives table, throwing stars, and lastly a long range table. And sitting there was none other than the annoying-pain-in-her-ass-assassin,

Clint Barton.

**Haha, he's a little bastard, isn't he?**

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Hey guys, I'm so sorry for how long updates are taking. I am hoping to get the next chapter out sometime this weekend for sure.**

**Thank you to my lovely unofficial beta 'Its all About Dance' She's super cool and I love her (like she loves Clint)**

**Huge thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, or reviewed, it means a lot to me.**

**I don't own Marvel (unfortunately) or their characters.**

**Enjoy! **

Natasha internally groaned and thought to herself 'might as well get this one over with' as she began walking towards Barton's station. She was almost there when she found herself cut off by Agent Howey who immediately stepped in front of Natasha. Agent Howey flashed Natasha what all women know to be an 'I hate you, bitch' smile and flipped her perfectly straight black hair over her shoulder. Howey then proceeded to flash Barton a flirtatious smile and lean in close to him.

Natasha decided not to start a fight and walked over to a knife station. She glanced back at Howey and Barton and held back a snort when Howey tried to step closer to him and tripped over her own foot. Real smooth.

Natasha turned around towards the station she was at. An Agent she didn't know the name of began explaining how he would test her skills and what score she would need in order to pass.

* * *

Clint Barton was finding himself increasingly annoyed with the young female agent in front of him. She was pretty with her long black hair, blue eyes, and decent chest, but she was acting like a ditz. And Clint Barton did not like women who acted stupid in order to get men. He also preferred green eyes that held intelligence and a fire he had only seen in one pair of eyes in his lifetime.

He hid his distaste as the woman, Agent Howey? kept trying to hit on him.

"Alright, you will fire ten shots, each of which will be scored by how close they are to the target out of ten points, understood?" Clint asked, trying to put distance between himself and Howey, handing her the sniper rifle and stepping back.

"Oh, I understand perfectly." she purred.

He picked up his clipboard used for score keeping and told her to begin.

Her first shot was terrible, hitting the wall behind the target. The next one hit the board but was still off. She turned around and asked sweetly

"Do you think you could help me position the rifle? You seem to have good aim…"

"No." he replied in a bored voice.

"Can you-"

"No, I cannot touch the rifle when you are being tested. Please continue with your last eight shots." He told her in an annoyed voice. She pouted, but ceased arguing with him. He knew he was attractive, but damn this woman was irritating. She also had to be about 25-26 years old.

She raised the rifle again and fired her last 8 shots without much skill. She didn't even take the time to reposition after the recoil. Her total score ended up being about 63 out of 100.

Howey leaned in close to Clint and whispered in his ear

"Are you sure there isn't _anything _I can do about my score?" she asked in an attempt to be sexy. It honestly came out sounding incredibly awkward.

"Become a better shot and gain a shred of patience." He told her as he took a large step back. Howey pouted and half stomped-half walked away.

Clint sighed. If this was how all the females were going to be, it was going to be a long day. He couldn't believe Coulson stuck him with this. Clint may be a great sniper, but there were other people who could test. He supposed this was punishment for jumping from an air duct and scaring a jumpy Junior Agent who promptly spit his coffee all over Coulson who just happened to be walking by at the wrong moment.

At least he could look forward to working with Natasha when she came around.

* * *

Natasha watched Agent Howey flirt with Barton and grimaced internally. She actually felt bad for Barton at this point. Howey was entirely too old to be hitting on him and it just looked gross at this point. Natasha had a feeling that Howey was mostly doing it to help her own score, while another part trying to piss off Natasha. The thing was, Natasha wasn't very pissed after the first few minutes. When Howey tried leaning in towards Barton and he tried to avoid her by stepping back, Natasha snorted.

Oh she just had a never ending list of charming qualities like that.

Natasha glanced up at the Agent scoring her knife throwing abilities at the second table. At this point in time, Natasha had already finished the other knife table, one of the handgun tables, and the throwing star table. She'd gotten almost all perfect marks. After she got her score for this table, she'd have four out of seven stations done while most other agents had two or three.

The Agent at her current table handed back her score sheet and regarded her with what looked like awe and a slight amount of fear.

Good. Anyone who worked in this profession should have a healthy dose of fear instilled in them at some point. And at this point, Natasha didn't care if people were afraid of her. They should be. She can kill them 8 different ways with a wooden spoon, and at least three ways with just her thighs.

Natasha looked around the room, she noticed Agent Howey walking away from Barton's table rather dejectedly, and decided to head over. But man, that took Howey forever; 'good luck having time to get scored in everything now' Natasha thought.

Natasha was halfway to Barton's station when he looked up from his rifle and noticed her. He flashed a smirk that promised an interesting evaluation, and then returned to his bow. Natasha got to the station and Agent Barton refused to look up. She realized he was messing with her to test her patience. 'Fine then, if we must all be difficult' she thought, standing in a parade rest stance, waiting. After 7 minutes and 47 seconds of waiting (she counted), he looked up and acknowledged her with a glint in his eye.

"Agent Romanoff." He said with a smirk.

"_Agent_ Barton." Natasha said, pouring as much sarcasm as she could into the 'Agent' part.

"Do I need to move the target closer, or can you handle the distance Red?" He teased.

"_What_ did you call me?" She asked in slight disbelief.

"Oh nothing, Stalin." He shot back with an easy grin. Clint Barton instantly found himself shoved against a wall with a knife imbedded in it, only a centimeter away from his ear.

"_Don't _call me that." She hissed. Who did he think he was to change her name? That was something friends do, and Natasha Romanoff didn't have friends. Not anymore at least. Caring for people was dangerous; it made you sloppy and unfocused in the field, and it compromised you.

"Why not darlin'?" Clint drawled in his natural Midwestern accent, adding a chuckle at the end.

Dear Lord, did this kid have a death wish? Natasha glared icy daggers at him, praying he would stop before she was driven to actual physical violence.

It was then that she noticed, really noticed his eyes. From a few feet away, they just look grey-blue, but up close was a whole different story.

The stormy grey towards the inside had glints of the blue that occurred around the edges of his irises. The ocean blue was incredible. He was the only person Natasha has ever met who has eyes like these.

In short, Natasha thought his eyes were beautiful.

Not that she'd ever tell him or anyone else. She'd rather be tortured than have to tell Barton what she really thought of his eyes.

Natasha might be a highly trained and skilled assassin, but she was still a female who recognized attractive men.

Natasha stepped back before anyone in the room noticed what was going on between the two assassins. She picked up the rifle, aimed, and fired.

Bullseye.

Natasha re-adjusted the view, aimed, and fired again. This bullet either went through the hole made by the previous one or disappeared. And bullets didn't disappear.

This continued on eight more times until her shots were up. By the end of the necessary shots, Natasha had blown an inch and a half hole into the bull's eye. There were only about 15 people in the entire world that could ever make that shot. Eight were dead, three worked for SHIELD, and the other three were on a SHIELD hit list to be taken out. There were four people on the hit list up until a few days ago.

Natasha stepped back from the firing line and admired her work through the scope.

* * *

Clint watched Natasha fire her ten shots with a mixture of amusement and mild awe. He truly didn't think she had that in her. Clint knew Natasha was a great Agent, but he didn't know exactly HOW great until a moment ago.

"Well I'll be damned." Clint told Natasha as she walked towards him to await her score.

She heard his comment and muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'I'm not going to hell if he's there'. She glared at him, but it was too bad for her that Clint wasn't dazed by it. He's seen Coulson give him the exact same glare hundreds of times before, so Natasha's didn't have the desired effect.

"You passed." Clint told her.

"Gee, really?" Natasha responded, loading her words with sarcasm. She took the sheet from him without bothering to even look at what he wrote. She didn't seem to care. But oh she would, it was just a matter of when.

"Bye Barton, have fun with the rest of the Junior Agents. I hope they give you hell!" Natasha called in a fake cheery tone as she walked away. He just smirked. Oh boy did she have it coming.

* * *

Natasha finally looked down at her score sheet as she walked across the gym.

She did not like what she saw.

"BARTON! I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF." Natasha turned towards the table he was at a minute ago, but he was gone. In his place was a different Agent, another one whom Natasha did not know the name of. She stalked towards him with an evil glint in her eye. The moron didn't even notice she was there until she hoisted him up by his shirt collar.

"Where. Is. Agent. Barton?" She growled.

"I-I-I….his…um…lunch break for today, I-I-I was supposed to relieve him so he could…um go eat…" The Agent looked ready to pee himself as Natasha glared into his eyes, looking for the truth. Lucky for him, she found it. Too bad she was still ready to scream in frustration.

She looked down at her score sheet again, seeing the various doodles of an evil looking spider, repetitive drawings of 'Hawkeye' in cartoon format. The next thing wrong was that Barton changed her name at the top to Stalin.

Finally, the words "Black Widow LURVES _Hawkeye_" appear in bold bubble lettering at the top of her sheet.

Oh, she would kill him indeed.

**A/N Hey guys, please leave a quick review just to let me know what you think so far. Testing will be over next chapter, and BlackHawk will be off on their first mission together. Where do you think it's going to be to?**

**Thanks!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N Hey guys, I am so sorry that it took me this long to update, school has really been hitting hard lately with exams coming up. Once school is out, I promise the updates will be much closer together.**

**Thank you to everyone who has faced, followed, or reviewed, especially the reviews. They're really great and I can't thank you guys enough!  
**

**Thank you to my unofficial beta 'It's all about Dance' , she really kicks my butt when it's needed.**

**I don't own Marvel or any of their copyrights**

**Enjoy!**

Before Natasha could go and shove something firmly up Barton's ass, she had to finish her remaining evaluations. Every station after Barton's was irritating and boring to be scored at. One instructor asked her why her name was Stalin, and she sent the guy an icy glare that shut him up real fast.

When she was finally done, the worst part about the whole situation arose. She had to return the scoring sheet to Sitwell before she could leave. Thankfully, Agent Coulson had gotten her out of anti-interrogation and interrogation testing. She also got to skip the espionage testing because he told her 'If your records and file are correct, then there is no reason to be tested in skills you already excel way above your group at.'

Natasha walked over to Agent Sitwell with her head held high and wordlessly handed him her sheet. She was the first one done, and most of the group was only 3/4 the way there. He looked briefly surprised she was done, but his expression quickly turned into amusement. Damn she wanted to slap it off of his face so badly, but she knew she'd be punished if she did.

"You may go now Agent Romanoff, the lists will be posted tomorrow outside the gym. There is no pre-determined time, so be on the lookout" Sitwell said with an emotion she couldn't quite read in his eyes, but she did know that it seemed suspicious. This made her wary. She vowed to herself to be on the lookout for the next few days.

Upon getting permission to leave, Natasha sprinted out the door to the gym. She had a bastard to find.

* * *

Clint Barton was up in the rafters overlooking the main control room of the Helicarrier. He had a cup of coffee in one hand, and his SHIELD phone in the other. He was watching footage of training after he left. Clint went back to watch the footage of when she first saw what he did to her score sheet. This had him in tears laughing silently. Oh he was good.

All of a sudden there was the sound of a door being slammed open on the left side of the room. The control room wasn't usually crowed during this time of day, most Agents were off doing something for Hill. The ten people in the room turn towards the noise.

In the doorway is a very irritated looking red head. She ignores all the stares of the Agents in the room, looking around the room quickly. She checks under the desks by the large windows before she looks up. That's when Clint knew he was in trouble. She smiled at him with a dangerous glint in her eyes. 'Oh shit.' Clint thought before he hopped up and ran across the beam he was sitting on to get to the air vent.

Every single Agent in the room looked like they didn't have a clue what was going on between the two assassins, but both assassins knew it was only a matter of time before Natasha Romanoff found Clint Barton.

* * *

Clint was hiding out in the library that he didn't think Natasha knew existed. He was between two bookcases that faced away from the only entrance and holding his breath. He peeked around the corner and saw no one; he breathed a sigh of relief and turned around.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Clint screamed, suddenly coming face to face with a very pissed off looking red head. Clint also managed to fall backwards onto his ass, just missing the slap that Natasha had aiming for his face. In the same second she moved forwards, he rolled into a backwards somersault, landing on his feet. Now they were both standing, Clint panting from getting the shit scared out of him. Natasha just glared.

"What. The. Hell. Romanoff?" Clint managed in between breaths.

He was met with an icy glare that would have sent most men running for fear of getting their balls cut off. But Clint Barton was not most other men. So he decided to poke the bear, in the metaphorical sense.

"What? Were my drawings not up to your standards? Next time I'll make sure I shade my ass in better, it'll be more realistic anyways…" He drawled on after he finally caught his breath.

"UGH! Why was it necessary to vandalize my score sheet? Asshole. "

"Calm down, Red. It was just a few cartoons…"

"What did you call me?" Natasha asked in a dangerously calm voice.

Now he ran.

**Line **

Natasha watched the little bastard run away. His reaction was exactly what she was hoping for. Now he would be paranoid and stuck watching his back all the time. It was the best, no-effort required form of revenge. She could sit back and watch Barton freak out.

She headed towards her room and proceeded to shower and change into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Natasha was so exhausted; she fell into her bed without a care in the world about when the stupid lists were going to be posted.

* * *

Natasha woke up with a start in a room she's never seen before. It was small, about ten feet in either direction. There was a toilet and a small wall for privacy, the rusty sink next to the toilet was pitiful looking and the ugly brown colored walls had stains that she refused to think too much about. Natasha forced back a shudder and thanked whoever was out there that she was uninjured. From the looks of it, she'd been captured, and boy was she pissed.

Goddamn, was a flying SHIELD base unsafe?

An intercom jumped to life from the ceiling.

"Hello Ms. Romanoff, so kind of you to be joining us today."

"Did I really have a choice?" she hissed right back.

"No, but you will have a few choices in the near future. Your first choice will be in the morning, so sleep well, you'll need it." The voice announced in a calm tone before the microphone was shut off.

That was a good joke though. Sleep while her captors could surprise her at any moment? Not likely. So Natasha sat with her back up against the wall facing the doors and waited.

She refused to sleep.

* * *

Aside from being in a hyperaware mode, looking out for Natasha and her evil schemes, Clint Barton was pissed. Fury was off on a land base somewhere, probably kicking some base director's ass, and the council was sending him and Coulson on a surveillance mission in England. The mission was simple, boring, and could probably be completed by a junior agent.

So why did Clint need to go? He didn't know. Probably never would know either.

"Clint, pack up your shit, our plane leaves in 30." Phil Coulson said calmly as he passed Barton in the hallway. Clint huffed and opened the door to his room. God, it was 10 at night, the council couldn't have sent them in the morning? He quickly packed his stuff for 5 days and left his room. If he was lucky, the kitchen would have a meal he can take with him on the Quinjet.

Upon entering the cafeteria, Clint bee lined straight for the food line. He had good luck tonight because the kitchen had burgers out from dinner. He grabbed 3 and shoved one into his mouth before he ran back out towards the flight deck.

"Jesus Christ Barton, you're THAT hungry at 10pm?" Phil called from inside the waiting jet.

Clint just shrugged, Phil knew how strange Clint's eating habits were, but he was still learning. He walked up the ramp into the Quinjet and threw his bag onto a seat and set his 3 hamburgers down on a small table. This freed up his hands so he could grab the burger from his mouth that had been there too long to be comfortable. He immediately munched down, finishing his first in about three bites. Coulson just blinked.

"Do you get fed regularly? Or do you starve?" Coulson deadpanned. Dear god the kid was going to have a heart attack by 40 if he kept eating like this.

"Hey! It's an 11 hour flight to where we're going. I knew I was going to get hungry, so I brought food so you wouldn't have to hear my whining."

Coulson blinked.

"Barton, don't pull that shit on me, we both know that you'll be whining in approximately five hours for coffee, which we both know won't happen for another 6 hours after that."

"But Coulson…..I need coffee!" The plane took off, carrying Barton and Coulson away from the Helicarrier.

"Define need."

* * *

About 12 hours later, the intercom in Natasha's room came on.

"Ms. Romanoff, we will let you go if you can give us some simple information about SHIELD." Natasha froze. SHIELD had just taken her in and these people expected her to cave in and betray it? No way.

Natasha refused to answer and instead stared straight ahead at the door.

"Very well, I guess we'll be doing this the hard way then." The voice said sweetly as the door to Natasha's cell opened and three giant guards burst in and held guns to her head making their point very clearly. She just glared at all of them. She wouldn't crack under pressure. She couldn't.

Even though she knew it was unlikely that SHIELD would try to find her, she couldn't shake the silent hope that somehow, somewhere, Agent Coulson was trying to find her.

**A/N So where do you guys think Natasha is or how she got there? And how come Fury, Coulson and Barton are all off base?**

**Hm...**

**Please R&R, Thanks!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N **

**Hey guys, thank you so much for the amazing reviews, you make this story worth writing.**

**I also owe all of you an apology for how late this chapter is, aside from school I was on vacation without internet for a while and when I got home, I had to finish watching season 2 of supernatural. I finally understand why everyone loves that show so much!**

**Again, I want to give the biggest thank you to those who favorited and followed, and especially those of you who reviewed.**

**Many reviews had guessed that she was with SHIELD, but I don't know if you should be so sure. This is probably my favorite chapter so far, lots of important stuff goes down, we see more Natasha, we see Barton and Coulson return to the Helicarrier, and we find out why Fury's been gone. **

**I don't own Marvel or any of their trademarks.**

**4500 words later,**

**Enjoy!**

The guards led Natasha into a plain room without much in it. There was a metal chair in the center that had multiple straps for each arm and leg. She sighed internally, if she needed to be restrained this much, whatever came next wouldn't be very pleasant.

"Sit." One of the burly guards demanded. Natasha decided she would try to play the guards without violence. She batted her eyelashes and pushed her chest out.

"Now that chair doesn't look very comfortable, I don't like to be uncomfortable…" Natasha trailed off in a soft yet sultry voice. The guard furthest from her shifted uncomfortably.

"Maybe a pillow would help?" Natasha almost laughed at how easy it was for that one to crack. Taking into account his behavior and the nervous glint in his eyes, she guessed he was fairly new at this.

Natasha smiled softly and nodded as she walked over to him.

"That would be _perfect_, thank you." The other two guards just looked on dumbfounded by how fast their partner slipped under this assassin's control. Finally, one of them seemed to come to his senses.

"NO. You will sit, and deal with it. Enough of this bullshit, you are a prisoner, not a guest." Natasha glared back and without warning, she struck the guard nearest to her in a lightning-fast punch to the throat. Instant knockout. When the next two approached her, Natasha did a quick round-house kick to the one's chest and used that momentum to slam her body back into the final guard. She used the guard's burliness to her advantage by moving into a twist and rolling her body over his shoulder. Natasha then jumped on his back and quickly maneuvered to his shoulders, intending to use her infamous thigh hold to bring him down.

She felt a sharp pain in her neck and her world went black.

* * *

When Natasha felt herself return to consciousness, she noticed she was strapped into the very same chair she had tried desperately to avoid. She subtly rotated her wrists and ankles around, trying to find some sort of give in the straps, ropes, and cuffs, but found none. These people obviously weren't going to underestimate her ability to slip out of bindings. Natasha sensed the room was empty before she opened her eyes, giving away the fact that she was awake.

With no one in the room, Natasha was left to stew in her own thoughts. It figured that she'd get a second chance, just to be thrown into the hands of someone who has something against her. It wasn't a surprise that someone had something against her, she's killed too many people, and messed up too many lives top not have enemies by this point. What was surprising was how this individual/group got her.

Suddenly Natasha's eyes darkened dangerously. What if SHIELD has brought her in, only to be traded off to the Russians? Natasha's brain panicked at that thought. If the Russians had her, she was already dead where she sat. They would never take her alive after she left a mission and defected to the United States.

Natasha honestly felt like screaming in panic, fear, and irritation. She knew she was stuck in this hell hole as long as they wanted to keep her.

* * *

"But _Coulson…._"

"Clint, for the love of God, shut your damn mouth. I am so done with your whiney ass behavior. I _know_ the mission sucks, I don't know why they needed your skill set for this shit, but they picked you, so accept that fact and shut the hell up."

Clint blinked. Sometimes the Council was just a pain in the ass, and they got worse every year.

"Coulson?" Clint asked slowly.

"_What, _Barton?"

"How many more days of this shit mission?"

Coulson sighed.

"Five Barton. Five more days."

* * *

By Natasha's count, it's been an hour without so much as a peep from anyone. She was getting very antsy, but you would never be able to tell from her expression. She kept it icy cool and unchanging.

Finally, the door opened to reveal a woman Natasha didn't recognize. This woman had mousy brown hair that was cut at a sharp angle to her chin; she was short and had tan skin. She was carrying a tripod and camera, while a man behind her appeared with a large rolling cabinet that had a tray filled with full syringes on it. They appeared to be filled with a blue colored liquid that sloshed through the inside of the barrel.

Natasha groaned internally. She hated the feeling of drugs in her system, slowing down her mind, making everything fuzzy. Outwardly, all she did was send the woman the most threatening glares possible. What frustrated Natasha was that the woman wasn't even seemingly affected by it, and Natasha knew she could be damn threatening when she wanted to be.

While the woman set up the cabinet, the man set up the camera and trained it on her. The sick bastards were going to watch her torture. _Well it's too bad I'm highly trained in anti-interrogation, isn't it? _Natasha thought.

"_Hello Natalia, it is nice to have finally found you. Did you really think you could get away from us? Did you expect the Americans to welcome you with open arms? This was not suspicious to you in any way?_" The woman asked in Russian. Of course Natasha had been suspicious, but she had figured that the Americans were the lesser of 2 evils at this point. She could stay with the Red Room and continue to live out the horrors of daily life, or she could take her chances and see if she could get a second chance. Honestly at the point when she decided to go with Agent Barton, Natasha decided that the Americans could put a bullet in her skull or allow her to live. It didn't matter as long as someone else made the choice.

"_Go to hell_." Natasha spat back in Russian. So the Americans did trade her back to the Russians. She should've known. She should've known that people like her didn't get second chances; all she deserved was to suffer.

Wordlessly the woman whose name Natasha did not know picked up the first syringe. Natasha turned away when she felt her sleeve being rolled up. She didn't utter a peep when she felt the needle plunge into her skin.

It first felt like someone had sent ice water through her body, not a terrible feeling, just mildly uncomfortable.

Then it began.

* * *

Natasha didn't think it was possible for someone to create a serum that sent such a strong sense of fear through the human body. Natasha knew it was unreasonable to feel fear at the moment. There was no true threat in the room other than the woman, but Natasha knew deep down that if she was free, the woman wouldn't stand a chance. But this serum did its job, sending her brain into a panicked frenzy.

The only outward sign of Natasha's reaction was a slight twitching in her right eye every few seconds.

She went through a set of mental exercises she taught herself long ago, and slowly, her brain calmed itself down.

"Next dose" The woman said to no one in particular as she injected Natasha once again. This time was different though. This time, her body was paralyzed while her mind raced with the stronger dose. This time was worse, but Natasha could still handle it. That was until she felt a third prick and saw a purple fluid enter her system.

It first felt like her veins were encased in warmth.

Then the hallucinations began.

* * *

She saw fire everywhere. On her, on the walls, everywhere. She was burning. Next, the room faded out, and Natasha was left in a dark bubble with none other than Ivan Petrovich standing in front of her.

"Dear Natalia, why did you leave us? We gave you everything, we made you perfect and you go run off with some barbaric American? I'll bet you've been screwing him this whole time you little whore! I created you, I made you into the machine you are today! "

"YOU DID NOTHING! I COULD HAVE GIVEN UP, BUT I NEVER DID. YOU ARE NOTHING!" She screamed at her hallucination.

As quickly as it came, it left and she was left feeling drained of all energy. Before she could catch her breath, another hallucination swept over her.

* * *

This time she was standing over a former KGB agent who was caught trading sensitive information about the program to the North Koreans in exchange for booze and money. Petrovich laid his hand on her shoulder and spoke.

"Natalia, he must be killed. Do it now."

"Why?" Seven year old Natasha wanted to know.

"Сука! You question an order given by your country?"(bitch)

"I do not mean to disrespect our country; I only question why he is to be killed as opposed to prison".

Natalia felt a sharp slap to her cheek, followed by several blows to her ribcage and back. As much as it hurt, she refrained from crying out, knowing the punishment would be greater for showing pain.

"_What_ was your question again?" Petrovich demanded. Natalia stood taller and answered with confidence

"How do you wish for him to be killed Sir?"

In response, Ivan held out a knife to her.

She grabbed it.

* * *

As she came down from her last hallucination, it occurred to Natasha how dry her throat was. It was then that she realized she must've been screaming close to the entire time.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes in exhaustion, no longer having the strength to fight back against these people. She heard the woman speak in Russian again.

"_Natalia, you will be escorted back to your room, try anything funny, and they will not hesitate to shoot this time_." In response, Natasha merely spat at the woman, earning her four good blows to the abdomen. As a reaction to that, Natasha flashed everyone in the room a devious smile that was beautiful, yet unnerving at the same time.

After being released, she hid how exhausted she was and again, sat against the wall facing the door. This time though, Natasha planned on sleeping. She knew she'd need her strength.

The odds must not have been in Natasha's favor today, as the intercom came on shortly after her arrival back to her cell.

"I do hope you weren't planning on sleeping _darling_."

Natasha gave the finger in response, figuring they had cameras on her. The intercom clicked off briefly before coming back on, this time bringing the loud bass and drums of rock music at what she suspected to be max volume. Damn bastards were going to deprive her of sleep? She'll show them. She was Natasha damn Romanoff and by God she could handle it.

* * *

"Hey Coulson, hey Coulson, hey Coulson, GUESS WHAT." A very hyper archer practically screamed in his handler's ear as a wakeup call.

Coulson was already awake; he had woken up the instant he heard Clint wake up about 30 minutes ago. When that boy was not required to be in stealth mode, and when he wanted food or coffee, damn he was loud.

"What do you want, you annoying pest?" Coulson grumbled from under the pillow he promptly placed over his head.

"FOUR MORE DAYS!" Clint literally yelled before jumping up and running out of the room.

Coulson just sighed, knowing Barton was going stir crazy here, not being able to do anything to stay occupied.

* * *

After a while, the music simply faded into the background as Natasha fell into her thoughts. She replayed everyone she's killed in her life up to this point, the list getting longer and longer, red gushing faster and faster.

Natasha was no idiot, she knew that after her betrayal, the Red Room would be unforgiving; she also knew she was in for a hell of a time.

She vowed that if she got out of here, she'd wipe out that red, or die trying.

* * *

It reached the point where by her calculations; she's been in her cell for about a day and a half. Natasha couldn't tell whether it was day or night, there were no windows. It was probably just another way for them to mentally knock off their prisoners. She wouldn't put it past Petrovich to try to disarm his opponents mentally before killing them off physically.

The door to Natasha's cell opened and five guards she has never seen before enter her room. She smirked; looks like they got a little nervous after the last run-in their friends had.

Natasha just remained sitting and stared, blinking innocently. At this point, she was going to make their job as difficult as possible. If they wanted her in a different room so badly, they were going to have to carry her.

It seemed as if the guards realized this, as four of them came towards her while from what Natasha could guess the one in charge just trained a gun on her head.

Natasha could have rolled her eyes at how clumsy the ones trying to pick her up were. Not that she was making their job any easier. She moved to lie on the ground on her back, requiring each of the four to grab a single limb. This resulted in them carrying her in the middle of them, her body swinging back and forth with their steps.

Once again, the guards brought Natasha into the room with the 'lockdown chair' silently. This time, instead of telling her to sit in the chair, they just threw her down into it, and strapped her in without a word. Once they were confident she was secured, the guards left through the only door in the room.

Not 5 minutes later, the same woman as before entered with her rolling cabinet of pain and drugs. The difference was that this time, there was what appeared to be a sink basin on top, and a large cloth hanging from a hook.

"_Since SHIELD agreed to our trade agreement, obviously they got their pitiful Agents back, but the difference is that their Agents learned nothing of us, while Ivan and myself are convinced that you've learned more than what they serve for dinner._" The woman mentioned.

"_Who are you?" _Natasha demanded_._

"_Ah, I suppose you could call me a consultant of sorts."_

"_And where is Ivan? To afraid to interrogate me himself?" _Natasha threw back, hoping to get some sort of clear answer from the woman. All that earned her was a slap to the right cheek. _"You think you deserve to see him?! After everything, you think he wants to see you alive? HA, you'll be lucky if the next time you see him he doesn't put a bullet through your skull himself!"_

Natasha only glared back. She knew all too well what Petrovich would do to her.

The super-bitch 'consultant' placed the large rag over Natasha's head, completely covering her face. '_Fuck.'_ Natasha thought, '_goddamn water boarding'_. Of all the tortures Natasha's experienced in her life, water boarding is on her list of least favorites. She had absolutely no control and it felt like she was suffocating every damn time. She could shut her brain off against pain, but nothing could convince her brain that she wasn't drowning each and every time some motherfucker decided to have fun.

Natasha felt her chair being leant back into the typical position. She then realizes that where she is now is approximately directly over the drain in the floor that she had spotted upon arrival.

"_Last chance Natalia._" She heard the woman speak.

"_I'm going to kill you._" She simply replied.

* * *

Natasha could feel herself being carried back and then flung into her cell. It wasn't unfamiliar to her; in her line of work, sometimes you endured the torture to get the target or information. The difference was that this time, there was no target to kill or information to acquire.

For what felt like hours, Natasha coughed up ungodly amounts of water, causing her lungs to burn and her head to feel dizzy. She then moved her aching body back into its sentry-like position across from the door. As much as her body and mind protested the movement, Natasha refused to show weakness by collapsing on the floor in a heap.

By her count, they left the music on for a full twenty four hours after she returned.

* * *

"Barton, for the love of God, shut your mouth before I shut it for you!" Coulson warned.

"But Coulsooooon, I'm _starving_." Clint whined over his com link. His surveillance mission blows, the food sucks, and Coulson just sat there in his little monkey-suit giving orders as if the mission was of the most importance.

Clint was pretty sure he could _hear_ Coulson's eye twitch over the com.

"You only have a day and a half left. Now finish up surveillance for today or I promise you WILL starve."

* * *

This time when the guards retrieved her, she was simply thrown over a shoulder and taken away. The rest of her escort made their point very clear by aiming their pistols right at her head. She almost rolled her eyes.

The guards placed her in a different room than before, this one took two more hallways to get to than the previous one. All there was were two large cuffs hanging from the ceiling and two cuffs on the floor. The guard carrying her half threw her down in front of the cuffs and proceeded to lock them around her wrists and ankles. Natasha knew she could _easily_ slip out of them, but the gun trained on her head suggested she do as they want.

The largest guard stepped up in front of her.

"Can I help you sugar?" Natasha drawled as she bats her eyelashes. All it earned her was a punch in the gut. Natasha could have sighed right then and there. 'So _that's what this is today_' she thought. It was just going to be a simple beating. Nothing new, nothing horrible. She simply ignored the pain.

That was until three of them joined in at once, and they managed to rip her arm out of its socket. Then, well then Natasha couldn't hold in the look of pain that crossed her face. It felt like fire was burning its way down her arm and shoulder blade.

The next genius decided that he was going to pop it back in, knowing the pain that caused. Unfortunately for Natasha, the one popping it back in did so at such an angle that it nearly tore the ligaments in her shoulder.

The beating continued for about two hours after that until the head guard seemed to get instructions from a com link in his ear. They all immediately stopped and pulled their guns out, aiming for Natasha.

She was un-cuffed and dragged, literally dragged back to her room.

Natasha was then left for another twenty four hours with only her thoughts and the music.

* * *

"Clint, stop running for the Quinjet, it's not going to leave until I'm on it too." That command only seemed to encourage Clint's inner child as the archer ran back to Coulson and grabbed his elbow, promptly dragging him forward.

Coulson was having none of that. He wanted to walk at a normal pace as opposed to being dragged. He flipped around, grabbed Clint's arm and had it behind his back before Clint even knew what was going on.

"See how distracted you are? Knock it off and slow down!" Coulson ordered.

Dear God, how Clint managed to look like a kicked puppy after that was beyond reasoning. Coulson refused to acknowledge it as they finished the walk up into the jet. Clint ran up the ramp and immediately whipped open the food cabinets.

Upon seeing the contents, Clint looked absolutely gleeful and entered the pilot's area. Coulson could hear him from behind the door.

"Hey Sam, dude you're the best! Thanks for the food!" Clint said. Coulson then heard a muffled reply before Clint returned and proceeded to shove two full sized snickers bars in his mouth before grabbing half of a microwaveable pizza from the fridge and stuffing it into the microwave. Coulson had one thought that stood out from the rest.

"_What is your cholesterol by now?"_

* * *

Once again, Natasha was pulled from her spot on the floor of her 'room'. She hasn't eaten anything other than stale bread in days and all they've given her to drink was questionably dirty water.

They led her into the room with the binding chair and secured her at gunpoint. Two kept their guns on her while the other three left, to go where, she didn't know. Inside, Natasha was panicking, on the outside she had her icy glare set on the guards. What if they never let her go?

Little Miss Consultant entered the room again, this time with a sidearm strapped to her waist.

"_Well Ms. Romanov, I'm tired of playing games, are you?_"

"_You're just a sore loser_" Natasha snarked back. The woman narrowed her eyes, pointed her gun at the wall, and fired. She then pressed the hot barrel against Natasha's thigh, searing right through the clothes onto skin. Natasha just gritted her teeth, she could take it. Couldn't she?

* * *

Much to Coulson's relief, after stuffing his face, Clint managed to sleep almost the entire trip back to the Helicarrier, which was closer than Coulson had originally thought. He knew Clint's first stop would be a hot shower and hot food from the cafeteria. Phil's first stop would have to be Fury, to begin debriefing.

As he walked the halls of the Helicarrier, he remembered that he would have to find Romanoff to begin working on what Fury's been referring to as 'the most promising partnership SHIELD has ever seen'.

Coulson sighed; it was going to be a long day.

* * *

Clint was just leaving the cafeteria to head for the shooting range when he felt his phone go off in his pocket. Seeing that it was Phil, he answered immediately.

"Barton." He answered.

"_Clint, meet me in conference room B on level two in ten minutes, and don't be late!_" Coulson ordered before hanging up. '_Jeez, it must be important if it's got Phil all huffed up_.' He thought, already moving towards the air vent that would take him right to level two.

* * *

By the time Coulson made it to the room, Barton was already waiting, playing some game on his phone.

"Barton, I need you to run, yes, literally run to the director with this. This changes everything."

"What? Phil, what the hell is going on?" Clint asked confused.

"Just go Barton!" Coulson yelled.

"Not until you explain what happened!" Clint fired back.

"Just read that file on the way alright? But get it to Fury RIGHT NOW. I've gotta find Hill." Coulson said as he practically threw the papers at Clint and sprinted out of the room.

Clint trusted Coulson with his life, so without further question, he left the room quickly too, intending to find out what was going on.

He read the file as he ran to Fury's office, first anger settling in, then concern.

The Council had ordered that Romanoff be put through anti-interrogation evaluations, against Fury's direct orders, which is why they had him off on a land base, far away from the Helicarrier. Not only had she been put through what normal trainees have to, but they designed her program to be excruciatingly worse. Much, much worse. Most Agents are deprived of sleep (the rock music) and told that they were kidnapped. Romanoff was being legitimately tortured and told that SHIELD had traded her back to the Red Room of all places. Having him and Coulson off the base was a bonus for the Council because they knew that Phil and he would realize what was going on.

'_Holy shit.'_ Barton thought. The Council had actually authorized the testing of several new prototype drugs on her system. The one had even listed brain damage as a goddamn side effect. When Clint reached Fury's office, he all but threw the file in the doorway and sprinted to the espionage/interrogation/anti-interrogation testing area of the Helicarrier.

* * *

The woman fired her gun for the seventh time and pressed it to Natasha's broken ribs. Natasha had long given up on not screaming. She ignored the questions they threw at her and pushed through. She would not give information about Agent Barton to the Red Room. He was not his organization. He pissed her off to no end, but he was the one who offered her an out when she saw no other way, he gave her a second chance, and second chances are rare in their line of work.

As Natasha was screaming, the door to the room they were currently in was kicked open and an extremely pissed off Clint Barton was standing in the doorway. '_I must be hallucinating from lack of sleep and pain because there is no reason for him to be in Russia' _she thought. The woman screamed,

"Restrain him! He'll ruin everything!" The guards immediately went after him but one by one, they dropped like stones as Barton took them down with non-lethal, knockout blows. When all the guards were down he walked towards the woman who was pointing her gun at him.

"Big mistake." He growled before ripping the pistol from her hand and hitting her over the head with it to knock her out.

Barton then made his way over to her, briefly glancing at the numerous injuries that littered her body. He didn't even waste time looking for the keys; he decided that he could just pick the locks faster. When all the bindings were off, Barton gingerly wrapped an arm around her waist and wrapped her other arm over his shoulders, trying to avoid the worst of the injuries, but he didn't miss the shadow of pain that crossed her face.

"I know you probably want to walk out of here on your feet, but from the looks of what happened, it's going to make it worse" he stated, and without further explanation, scooped her up from behind the knees and carried her out.

The last thing Natasha remembered seeing was concern filling bright blue eyes.

**So...WHADDYA THINK?**

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N I'm so sorry that this chapter took a little longer than usual to upload, I've been working split shifts at work and trying to write in between. This chapter was a little difficult to write because I wanted to get the Natasha/Coulson interactions right.**

**Overall, I'm really happy with how this chapter came out and I hope you guys are too.**

**Thank you so much to those of you who have favorited/followed this story, that's really awesome**

**Special shout out to everyone who's been reviewing. Your feedback really makes a difference.**

**I recently got a review with a new story plot idea and I wanted to tell erikj226 that I think the idea would be really good, but right now I'm really focusing on this story, and a second story that is in a plot development mode. I will definitely consider it in the future though, and I am always open to story suggestions that you guys would like to see in the future. **

**I do not own Marvel or any of their trademark characters/plots.**

**Enjoy!**

Natasha felt herself return to consciousness, but after the last few days she's had, she kept her breathing even and pretended she was still asleep, hoping that if she acted unconscious, they'd leave her alone. She could smell antiseptic and all the other smells that reminded her of hospitals and why she hated them but before she could be assaulted by the memories that threatened to overflow from her mental protection dam, she shut a wall down and locked everything away to deal with later.

The last five days of her capture and torture flooded Natasha's mind, and she locked all of that away to deal with later as well. However, Natasha decided to pick through the last few minutes of her consciousness to figure out where she was now before she exposed that she was awake.

She remembered a loud gunshot near her ear before the door burst open and Barton had appeared, but that didn't make sense because SHIELD sold her to the Russians. Right?

Natasha could feel her brain struggling to fill in the gaps of time, but she only remembered a few snippets of consciousness that she was awake for.

"_Big mistake" _She thought that the voice was Barton's but she couldn't be sure because of the way he head was angled right before she passed out.

"_Get her to the medical wing right now Barton, I'll handle this._" Natasha could swear that it was Coulson's voice she remembers, but why were he and Agent Barton around?

She kept her breathing even and steady, and kept her eyes from darting around under her lids but apparently whoever else was in the room could tell she was awake.

"I know you're up." It was Coulson. Damn.

Natasha opened her eyes to take in the room she was being held in to find one door and two windows. The windows were unguarded but on the other side of the door, two SHIELD Agents stood guard like sentries. Looking around, she had no weapons in immediate reach, although she could use the cord from her IV to wrap around a neck…

"I'm going to interrupt what is most likely a few homicidal thoughts and have a conversation with you. You don't have to answer but you do have to listen. And for the love of God _stop_ imagining ways to strangle the guards and get out of here. They're there to _protect _you." Coulson said, exasperated.

Natasha turned her head to look at him with an icy glare that would send most running in fear of their lives. But Agent Coulson was not most.

"I've had enough of men _protecting _me to last two lifetimes, so I think I'll take my chances without _protection."_ She spat the last few words.

"Look Romanoff, I know you've been through a hell of a few days, but if you let me explain what happened, maybe you could direct your anger at the right people, instead of the ones who saved your ass. Understood?" Natasha just turned to glare at the door and Coulson sighed and began.

"Romanoff, what you need to understand is that the Council is full of bastards who do not think before they act. Usually, Director Fury keeps them under control by vetoing their orders or simply ignoring them. Unfortunately this time the Council was smart and had Fury sent off base along with myself and Agent Barton with absolutely no knowledge of what they intended to do in our absence. They even kept Assistant Director Hill out of the loop and too busy to figure out what was going on. "

"You honestly want me to believe that NO ONE knew what was going on? Bullshit." Natasha said angrily, still glaring at the door, waiting for one of her captors to walk in and have another go with her.

Coulson decided to take a leap of faith when he saw slight fear in her eyes, underneath the rage storming in her green eyes. He slowly reached for his sidearm and then handed it out to Natasha, handle facing her. She looked at the gun warily, wondering if it was some sort of trap set up against her.

"Feel better?" Coulson asked as Natasha picked the gun up and checked the magazine for bullets. It was full. She turned the safety off and held it at the ready to be used. Coulson continued, "Look, I got you out of anti-interrogation training, which for most recruits is simply sleep deprivation until they crack. Fury even approved this request due to the circumstances by which you were recruited and your history. The Council took it upon themselves to directly order that department to control your, ah, testing process."

"Fuck you. That was no goddamn test, I'm not stupid. That was _playtime_ for them." Natasha knew that no one got tortured like that as a test. Torture like that was only meant to cause pain. The woman didn't even ask any real questions about SHIELD to test Natasha's loyalty. If ANYONE believed they were testing her, they were just damn stupid. The Council may have ordered her testing, but the department did so much more than test.

Coulson just nodded, understanding how she would feel after her five days of hell. "Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"I don't know…will it be drugged?" She bit back.

Coulson just pulled out his phone and hit a speed-dial button that almost instantly connected. Natasha could only hear Coulson's side of the conversation, and it didn't give her much information about who was on the other end.

"Yeah, just bring it up alright?" Coulson must have received an affirmative answer because he promptly hung up and put his phone away.

"_Who_ will be bringing _what_ up?" Natasha demanded, sitting up higher and aiming Coulson's gun at the doorway.

"Agent Barton is bringing your dinner up, unless you'd like to shoot him, that is." Natasha didn't even blink, showing hesitation in her line of work could get you killed.

"How long was I out for?" She questioned, never taking her eyes off the door.

"Two days" Natasha didn't even blink, though beneath her mask she was a little surprised. It must have been a drug induced coma because she never just slept through her injuries.

The next two minutes passed in silence until both Natasha and Coulson heard a rattling noise above their heads. Both instantly looked up to see the air vent cover being removed. Out popped a much disheveled Clint Barton who looked like he just came from the gym, based on his attire. Without processing who it was initially, Natasha had the gun raised, cocked, and aimed at Clint's head in a fraction of a second. Clint didn't even blink, understanding that he would have reacted similarly had he been in her position.

Upon identifying that Barton was not a threat, Natasha aimed Coulson's gun back at the door, but didn't take her eyes off him for a second.

"At ease, Romanoff" Barton chuckled as he tossed her dinner onto the hospital bed. She eyed it warily, not wanting to fall for something that may or may not be orchestrated by SHIELD.

"For the love of God, just eat the damn soup and be done with it!" Coulson ordered in an exasperated tone. At that Natasha turned to glare at him.

"You can each take a bite first." She declared. At that, both men gave her a look that screamed "_are you kidding me right now?_" Clint moved first, opening the soup and pulling an extra spoon from God only knows where and taking a bite of the chicken noodle soup. Coulson went next, grabbing a spoon from a pocket within his professional suit jacket.

Only after both had taken bites without keeling over did Natasha hungrily dig into her soup. Pulling up a chair next to Coulson, Barton pulled out two wrapped up deli sandwiches from his backpack and dug into one, handing the other off to Coulson.

"So what is going on now Phil? Fury went and blocked all access to his office other than Hill, who's pissed as hell at everyone and everything in her sight." Clint tried to subtly assess Natasha's condition, noticing that much of the bruising and burning was visible from outside her hospital gown. He could only imagine how awful her ribs must look if she was beaten enough to break a few.

"Right now the Director is ignoring the Council and attempting to block their access to the Helicarrier, but in the event they somehow manage to communicate with an Agent, Fury wants to be sure that they don't come after you again. That's why you have guards outside your door, not to keep you in, but to keep others out. Because of your impressive healing rate, the doctors will clear you to leave by tomorrow morning in which case you will have guards posted outside your room at all times." Coulson explained. Natasha had one more question that she was kicking herself for not knowing the answer to.

"How did they manage to get me unconscious and out of my room?"

"Well during periods of recruitment testing, Agents being moved around is not uncommon to see, in your case, they were actually smart enough to not just knock you out after entering your room. For you, they put an extremely strong knockout gas into the air vents leading to your room." All that answer earned was a huff from Natasha.

"I have other duties to attend to; Agent Barton will be staying with you until further ordered, Romanoff! Stop looking at your IV tube like it could be used to strangle him, Barton, don't encourage the homicidal behavior _please_." Coulson sighed as he walked out of the room and had a hushed conversation with the guards outside Natasha's room.

Insane, unreasonable assassins gave Phil Coulson pounding headaches. Throw a volatile Russian into the mix and Coulson was well on his way to having chronic high blood pressure for the rest of his life.

* * *

Natasha could feel Barton assessing her condition, physically and mentally, like a goddamn shrink. It was severely pissing her off.

"Barton, stop staring at me like I might break or I _will_ beat your ass out the door." She declared angrily.

"Woah there, Nattie it's-" The look she sent him stopped Clint dead in his train of thought. It was a look that would have made most men piss themselves.

"_Don't_ call me that you bastard. I hate all of your stupid nicknames!" She exclaimed with a huff. No one got to call her anything but her real name, and for the record, she's killed men for less.

"Calm down and kick back a little. You know what would help you relax and loosen that grip on Coulson's gun? A nice change of clothes, plus that hospital gown really doesn't do much for your figure 'hun." Clint stated the last part in a high pitched voice and added a fruity hair toss to go with his smirk.

Okay, Natasha couldn't deny that that one was slightly amusing in a childish bastardly way. But she was curious and slightly annoyed that he both got into her room and how he managed to do it.

"_How_ on earth did you get into my room?" In reply, Clint just smirked back at her and answered with a question.

"How did I get here?" Natasha instantly understood. The damn air vents were a blessing and a curse; someone could use them to avoid people, eavesdrop, and get around, on the down side, someone could send knockout gas through them in order to kidnap an Agent for a week of hell.

"Does everyone use the vents?" She inquired, still not knowing everything about SHIELD in her short time being there.

Upon hearing that, Clint chuckled to himself.

"No, not really, Phil will come up to try and get me down, but other than that, it's pretty empty." Natasha just nodded and caught the bag the Clint pulled out of the vent and threw at her.

She promptly ripped out her IV and swung her legs over the side of her hospital bed. When she hopped to her feet, she had to grab the side of the bed for support. The effort caused her knuckles to turn white, causing Clint to start towards her to help, but before he made it, she righted herself and steadily headed towards the bathroom, bag in hand.

It was about ten minutes before Natasha re-emerged from the bathroom, looking much better than before. Her eyes still had bags under them, and she still looked too thin, but the t-shirt and sweatpants covered a lot of the injuries and though her hair appeared to be soaking wet, it looked as if it had been brought to life. The color seemed to radiate, bringing more life into her face and eyes.

Even worn down, injured, and exhausted, Natasha Romanoff was absolutely gorgeous. And that fact was not lost on Clint Barton.

* * *

**2 hours later….**

Both had been sitting in silence for almost an hour and a half. Natasha looked more relaxed, yet she was very impatiently waiting to be released from the damn SHIELD medical ward. She couldn't leave because Coulson ordered the guards to not let anyone in or out of her room, and as much as she probable could force her way out, she'd rather not have to kill anyone if they pulled a gun on her.

"Alright, that is it! I need to get out of here or else I _will_ break something." She practically yelled. Natasha's patience had officially reached zero.

"Okay, then let's escape." Clint stated with a smirk.

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Natasha fired back, doubtful of any plan the archer may be concocting.

In reply, Clint simply looked up at the ceiling vent with a smile.

* * *

**Air vents anyone? Haha, Coulson's going to flip his shit.**

**I think that in the next chapter I'm going to flash into 3 months later so we can get started on some missions**

**So, what do you guys think?**

**If you have any story suggestions, ideas for this story, or feedback, please leave a review or PM me.**

**In the next story I plan on starting, Clint is going to lose his memories while on a mission. Will he ever get them back? Or will he be stuck in memories from 4 years ago?**

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Hey guys, so I decided how I was going to do this chapter for the sake of the story and so we can finally see a real Clintasha mission in action. I did throw in some flashbacks so we can see what they've been up to the past 3 months.**

**Does anyone here love supernatural? Because I am in the middle of season 5 and I love Misha Collins. Just putting that out there.**

**Thank you so much to you guys who favorited or followed this, you guys are the best.**

**Those of you who reviewed- you have no idea how much it means to me, your reviews make me constantly want to write new chapters and I can't put into words how much I appreciate it.**

**I don't own Marvel or any of their trademarks**

**Enjoy!**

_**3 months later…**_

Clint and Natasha were in the largest gym at SHIELD. It had the best sparring ring of all the gyms, and if she was honest with herself, Natasha found it incredibly amusing to watch the faces of the Junior Agents while she and Clint sparred. He had gotten much, much better over the past few months and while he was the best at SHIELD before he recruited her, but with someone who could match, and excel beyond his skills, it pushed him to be better.

Natasha still won most of the time when they sparred, but every so often Clint would get in a lucky hit. Natasha could wriggle out of almost any hold in the world, but there were a few where Clint would get his archery toned arms around her, in which case she would have to break bones if she wanted out.

Of course she wouldn't though. The last few months of being around Clint had made her trust branch out to him. Of course, Natasha didn't trust him completely yet, but she could trust his ability in the field not to get himself, or her killed out of stupidity. She had respect for his skills as an Agent; he pushed her to constantly get better, constantly get stronger.

* * *

**_The day of the medical-wing escape…_**

"_Here, I'll boost you up, once you're up there, move to the right side, I'll be right up." He cupped his hand and easily pushed her up to where she could grab the side of the opening and swing herself inside. While Natasha got herself settled, Clint ran to the door, making sure it was locked, and for extra protection he shoved a chair up under the doorknob._

_He used the bed as a boost and jumped off and towards the vent. _

* * *

**_3 months ago…_**

_It had been a week since Natasha had been released from the hospital and Coulson had called both her and Clint into a room housing a training course similar to the one Natasha had been tested on during Agent testing. This one was much different from the last. It started with a monkey bar-type obstacle 12 feet off the ground that inclined another 10 feet up. From there they would have to drop their bodies down 5 feet and catch their fall on a bar before moving into a difficult ropes course containing free-hanging ladders, nets, and vine-like ropes coming down from the ceiling. At the end of the ropes section, the Agents would find themselves 30 feet from the ground, at the end of a platform that extended over a narrow 10 foot deep pool that twisted all over the room, making it approximately half a mile long._

_Even for Natasha Romanoff, the course would prove to be a challenge. Since they were partners, Coulson decided that they would have to work together to get through the course. He had them line up at the start, and on Coulson's call, they were off. Clint cupped his hands and boosted Natasha up to the top of the bars so she could climb over the top while he swung across. To make their way down to the next bar, Natasha dropped down, caught it, and flipped mid-air when she flung her body towards the ropes course. Clint followed suit, leaving out the flip and landing next to her._

_Clint began crawling across the large hanging net, not all unlike a monkey swinging across vines. Natasha followed soon after, but right as she was about to jump to the next ladder, her right foot broke through a frayed rope, causing her to lose her usual balance and grace and fall down, barely catching herself upside down, only holding on with one foot. Before she could even begin to curse, Barton was back by her side, reaching a hand down and pulling her back up._

_Natasha simply huffed; irritated that he had to come and 'rescue her' when she could have righted herself given a few more seconds. Scowling, Natasha once again followed behind Barton until they hit the end of the ropes. Natasha dove into the water first, completing several Olympic-style flips mid-air before returning to a normal dive position right before she broke the surface of the water. Once Natasha was out of the way, Clint took a running start and jumped off, immediately forming a cannonball. The resulting waves and splash was 'magnificent' as Clint would say._

_They swam the half-mile and finished the course, crossing the finish line at the same time. Coulson stopped the timer and marked their time down on his clipboard._

"_Well?" Clint asked while trying to lean over and see the time they got. Natasha simply wrung out her hair and grabbed one of the towels waiting for them on the ground. _

"_Knock it off Clint; you're soaking all my goddamn papers!" Coulson said with a huff and an annoyed scowl. "You two chuckleheads got 10:37; it's a new record for the partner's time."_

"_I resent that thank you very much." Natasha replied to Coulson._

* * *

**_1 month ago…._**

_Natasha woke up screaming, again. The damn bitch from 'training' wouldn't get out of her head. She'd been having the same nightmares of the torture for 2 months now, mixed in with her time in the Red Room._

_She put a tank top on over her sports bra and made her way down to one of the smaller gyms. Though the one she chose was smaller than the other gyms, it was perfect for beating the hell out of a punching bag, or letting 20 rounds go into a dummy. There was also a much smaller chance of being interrupted by anyone._

_Natasha made her way over to the punching bag and promptly began beating the shit out of it, paying no attention to how bloody her knuckles were becoming. After about 30 minutes, she sensed a presence behind her, and only then did she stop._

_She flipped around and threw a punch in the direction she sensed the presence to be; surprised to see Barton there when he caught her punch._

"_What the hell do you want?" She spat, not really wanting to be around people at the moment._

"_Woah there Stalin, calm down before you pop a blood vessel. I was up and felt like shooting in the range, but now that someone else is here I feel like sparring, and you know, I think I'm going to annoy the shit out of my partner until they agree to a match." He drawled on, enjoying the way her eye twitched when he called her 'Stalin'._

"_Fine." She said, preferring to get it over with instead of dealing with his smart-ass for longer than necessary. _

_And then Natasha proceeded to fully kick his ass._

* * *

Today, while Clint and Natasha were getting ready to spar, a group of Agents, some Junior, some senior, hell, even a few handlers were there. Clint even has his suspicion that Hill and Fury watched the fights over the security cameras and placed a few bets of their own.

Clint and Natasha stepped into the ring and immediately a hush fell over the crowd- no one wanted to miss a moment of the best sparring matches on the Helicarrier.

They circled around each other for a few moments, waiting to see whose patience would wear out faster; it was the metaphorical calm before the storm.

Without warning, Natasha lashed out with a kick aimed for Clint's knees. He easily deflected by re-directing the force up into the air. Natasha quickly threw her other leg into the air, braced her hands on the tops of his feet and locked her ankles around his neck. To break her hold on him, Clint rolled forwards into a somersault which threw her legs down and off of him.

With both back upright, the next barrage of attacks and deflections came. Clint aimed a punch at Natasha's ribs, but she was suddenly not there, instead appearing behind him and jumping to his shoulders before twisting around and throwing Clint to the ground. Natasha landed on top of his back and pulled his arm back in a position that most would find inescapable, but Natasha had met her match with Barton, and he managed to flip them over so he had her pinned down.

Natasha didn't like it when he got her pinned down because he had to put his weight on her to keep her from wriggling out and Barton was fucking heavy. He was absolutely nowhere near overweight, but the years of archery and Agent training have built up a great amount of muscle and strength in his upper body.

His arms were what really held her down; they were huge. His biceps were incredibly toned, no doubt that they've been toned from a younger age. Not to mention his shoulders and chest, that of which had been exposed to her when Coulson had them training in the pool. His shoulders were all muscle, leading down to his chest where a nice set of abs sat.

Natasha was no fool, she knew Barton was handsome, but she wouldn't dare mention that to anyone. Pretending he was sexless made it much easier to stay focused on the job and kept compromising thoughts at bay. She may be a Red Room trained operative with a highly enhanced body and brain, but she was still a 17 year old female who could appreciate the male body.

Over the past few months of training and brief surveillance missions, Natasha had begun to find companionship in Barton. Of course he was still annoying as shit, but it was nice to have someone there who was always open to spar and who could take smart ass comments as well as he could give them. She wouldn't call them friends, Natasha didn't have friends, didn't know what to do with even the idea of it, but they were partners.

To get out of Clint's hold on her this time, she'd have to fight dirty. Barton must have sensed something was coming because before she could bring her knee up to his crotch, he rolled off, practically flying to his feet, ready to block the next wave. Natasha flipped up almost as quickly and was on the defensive immediately. She knew that trying to knee a man in the balls usually brought forth retaliation, so she was ready for whatever was coming next.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha noticed money changing hands in the audience and smirked, knowing that there was no sure way to know who would win each match.

The good thing about the bets, which were against SHIELD regulations, was that the Agents made sure to give the winner a cut of the profit. Both Natasha and Clint had stashes of money hidden in their rooms from the wagers taking place.

It was then that Coulson entered the room, and almost immediately the audience dispersed, calling it a draw for the day.

"Barton, Romanoff, mission briefing in 10 minutes. Be in meeting room 63F in 5. " He stated briefly before turning on his heel and heading back out the door of the gym.

"What's got his panties all twisted?" Natasha muttered under her breath, irritated that their match got cut short.

"Probably Hill, from what I hear, she's got a firm grasp on the entire handler's department, ruling with an iron fist, although I hear it's especially tight with Coulson." Clint replied with a wink and an easy smirk. It was a secret, yet not a secret at the same time that something was up between Hill and Coulson. Exactly what, no one knew for certain, but there was definitely enough speculation going around-raising questions from most of the SHIELD agents.

"Let's go, the last time you were late Coulson made _both_ of us file his paperwork for 8 hours straight and I am _not_ doing that again."

* * *

Coulson looked down at his watch; the two of them had exactly 30 seconds left before he was going to get pissed.

Fury just handed him the mission report before he made his way down to the gym to get those two. It would be the first major mission for Barton and Romanoff, and if completed, would gain Romanoff favor with both Fury, _and_ the Council, neither of which she has much with.

As if on cue, 10 seconds before the 10 minute mark, Barton drops down from the vent and Romanoff walks in through the door with a professionally blank face, as per the usual during mission briefings. Coulson could definitely appreciate her professionalism, but he did still have his doubts about her reasons for coming to the states with Clint. Coulson still worried that she would turn on them and get Clint killed, or worse.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Coulson gestured for them to sit as he opened the file.

"You're going to France, Nice, to be exact. SHIELD's radar's picked up on shipments of weapons and high-class drugs being exported from the waterfront. If we're correct, the next shipment headed out should be in about ten days. We still aren't sure exactly who's been doing it, and that's why you guys are needed."

Clint raised his eyebrows while Natasha nodded once in understanding.

"Romanoff, since this will require subtly, you're going in undercover and Barton will be your backup. Your cover and necessary documentation are all in here. I trust you will be ready tomorrow morning at 0700 hours? " Coulson asked as he slid the mission briefing packet across the table to the two agents.

"Yes sir." She replied briefly before turning to Barton. "We're going over this after lunch. Meet me here at 1." With that, Natasha strode out of the room with the briefing.

"Coulson." Clint said, causing Phil to look up from the phone he pulled out. Coulson simply raised his eyebrows in response.

"This is our first field mission."

"Yes." Coulson replied.

"What are you thinking, Coulson? I can see your mind racing a mile a minute and quite frankly, it's rather concerning." Clint asked, hoping his ever stubborn handler would just tell him what he wanted to know for once. He was sick of sneaking around for the answers Coulson wouldn't give.

"Just…be careful out there, okay, Clint?" Phil pretty much pleaded.

"Always am, Phil. Always am." He responded before jumping back up into the vent.

Coulson sighed; praying to whatever God was out there that they would come back alive.

* * *

"Wait, so you get to be a 22-year old bachelorette who loves to party, yet specializes in security for…_independent businesses who desire discreet options?_" Clint asked, earning a nod back. "That is so not fair, you get to go party and drink with the big wigs, yet you're allowed to show your badass side once they hire you?" She simply smirked back.

"I also get to drink, legally that is. It's much easier than a fake ID." Natasha shot back, almost cracking a smile at the pouty face he pulled. Truth be told, she could pass for a woman in her 20's. When she first came to SHIELD, Natasha was dangerously skinny, and though she had muscle, it wasn't toned like it should have been.

Now, her muscles filled out, and it was easier to continue to build muscle and tone. Natasha also gained a little bit of weight, but it didn't look bad, it actually made her look better because her curves filled out so her ribs and hipbones didn't poke out severely like they used to and her cup size even went up to D. The tone of her thighs, calves, and ass made it appear that her legs could go on for miles. Plus now, instead of her stomach looking like it was concave, it was solid, and for the first time, she was able to actually have her solid abs show.

"How many times have you used a fake ID?" He questioned. Natasha kept her face blank as when she responded.

"How many bottles of vodka are in my pantry? Multiply it by about 25. I'm sure you can guess about how I got it all the other times." Clint just groaned as he threw his head back. Natasha could've sworn she heard him grumble under his breath.

"_Yeah but you didn't have Coulson on your ass on every goddamn mission you've ever been on, the bastard."_

* * *

The next morning, Natasha was dressed and ready to be driven to the airport by 6:30am. She had on a professional dark blue sleeveless dress with matching stilettos and a tan blazer. Her hair was done in a professional looking bun-like up do. Unfortunately, due to the nature of her cover, she would be stuck flying commercial while Clint got to fly via Quinjet.

Once she gets to Nice, her job is to get into every party and fundraiser possible, try to get into the social circles of politicians, mob bosses, really anyone of importance that could have ties to the exports.

SHIELD, Fury, and Coulson were no fools; they knew that ten days was not enough time to complete everything. In fact they expected the mission to last close to a month, that's why SHIELD bought an apartment for them to stay in, right on the waterfront.

Natasha hopped on the helicopter that would take her to the airport, pulling on her sunglasses as it lifted off the Helicarrier and flew towards the city.

**So...what do you think? **

**I was looking for a good place in France for the mission to take place other than Paris, so I hope Nice (pronounced niece) is okay. **

**You guys should know that I am in fact officially now working on a second Clintasha story that I will begin posting hopefully sometime later this month, or early August. **

**Please R&R, thanks!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey everyone, I wanted to apologize for how long it took to get this up here. I haven't had writers block that bad in a while and I got stuck trying to figure out which way I wanted the story to go.**

**Thank you so much for favoriting and following this story, it's really awesome of you guys.**

**Those of you who reviewed deserve a thousand hugs.**

**I don't own Marvel or any of their trademarks.**

**Misha Collins is fabulous and good luck to any of you participating in GISHWHES this year. Long live the Wooster!**

**Enjoy!**

**In France…**

Natasha stepped out of the airport and grabbed a taxi to take her to the vehicle rental shop in order to pick up whatever car SHIELD decided to leave her with for the month. The ride there was made short with the beautiful scenery passing by. She hasn't been to France in four years, and it was good to be back without the Red Room. Her memories from her last mission in Paris weren't too great considering she came out of it with a bullet in her leg and three broken ribs.

Upon arriving at the shop, Natasha stepped out of the taxi, after giving a generous tip to the driver-courtesy of SHIELD. She walked up to the counter where a little girl around the age of 10 or 11 sat.

Natasha set her ID on the counter and slid it across to the girl, knowing full well to never underestimate a child.

"Hey Lady, do you speak English?" The girl asked with a slight French accent.

"Yes I do _mais je parle francais aussi._" (_But_ _I speak French also_) She replied in flawless French with a perfect accent.

"Well I like English better, anyways, here's your keys. It's around back in slot 3. Have fun, I wish my aunt would let me drive one of those." The child told Natasha in a wistful tone. That only served to make Natasha's curiosity grow. She's driven all kinds of cars, motorcycles, and bikes, but she hoped that whatever Coulson left her would be good.

Natasha took the keys and walked out the back door leading to the yard of cars. When she made her way over to slot 3, she only had one thought.

Coulson was getting a hell of birthday gift this year.

* * *

Natasha raced past the waterfront on the sleek black motorcycle-moped hybrid that Coulson had reserved. She honestly couldn't have asked for a better form of transportation to use. Natasha has used motorcycles countless times in the past and adjusting to the feel of this one was easy enough. Though the motorcycle was great, Natasha was grateful that Coulson had reserved Barton an actual car to keep a few streets away. When on the run from bullets, cars offered much more protection. She knew this from experience.

Natasha practically flew through the city, expertly avoiding pedestrians and weaving through traffic. When she arrived at the address Coulson gave her, Natasha's mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. Coulson told her and Barton that he had gotten them an apartment, not an entire villa right on the water.

She knew that Barton had arrived a little over 3 hours ago, most likely breaking in through a window or balcony as to not be seen. Natasha's cover was beautiful, rich, smart, and definitely _single._ They couldn't risk Clint being seen entering and raising suspicions.

Natasha unlocked the door leading inside and stopped in her tracks when she saw the inside of the house. She had never stayed anywhere as nice during a mission. The inside looked as if professional designers had a free-for-all when perfecting the interior.

She suddenly felt three arrows fly past her head and stick in the wall not even an inch away from her ear.

"Barton, if you're going to greet me like that, you sure as hell better have lunch ready!" Natasha yelled into the foyer.

"Yes dear!" Was the only response she received from around the right. As she followed the sound of Barton's yell, the smell of delicious food grew stronger.

Upon finding the kitchen, Natasha also found a hot plate of chicken Florentine and roasted potatoes waiting for her on the counter.

She felt a familiar presence behind her and turned around to find her face mere inches away from her partner's sculpted chest. His _bare_ chest. She hid the shiver that raced up her spine well, but the glint in Barton's eye told her he caught it.

"Why don't you put a damn shirt on Barton? Or does your ego prevent it?"

"Well before I cooked this beautiful and delicious lunch, I showered and just never finished getting dressed. And I told you to call me Clint." He responded indignantly.

"Why does it matter what the hell I call you?" She asked as she sat down by her lunch and began eating.

"Well since we're friends and all, I think we can be on a first-name basis."

"I don't have friends, Barton." Natasha shoved a large piece of chicken into her mouth to avoid answering further questions. Clint just shrugged his shoulders and let it go. For now. He was determined to crack her little miss tough guy shell.

Natasha had other plans though. During her time in the Red Room, Natasha had to kill the only person she could consider even close to a friend. All just to teach her that no one had friends in this profession. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed Barton's company, especially during the boring months on base; doing nothing but train got boring for the master assassin.

It really helped bust the boredom when Clint decided he wanted to pull pranks all over the base they were on, or even the Helicarrier. Coulson gave up on catching them, and then after another month, he gave up on trying to stop them at all.

One of her favorite pranks was when she and Clint busted into a new recruit training session with paintball guns and completely drenched all the recruits, and Coulson, who was filling in for Sitwell that day. The 3 days of paperwork that followed were so worth it.

* * *

That night, Natasha was going to be doing recon in a club right by a commonly trafficked pier. She hoped she would be able to subtly 'get air' frequently while watching for suspicious activity on the waterfront. Clint was going to be on the roof, watching the front and back doors to be sure that she had no trouble.

By 7pm Natasha was putting the finishing touches on her outfit and hair while simultaneously hiding weapons on every inch of her person. Her electric blue dress was short enough to catch attention, yet long enough to hide her compacted holster and pistol. The knives were much easier to conceal; she even had one hidden in her intricately braided hair.

Clint had insisted on wearing com links that night, even though there was a low possibility of finding any Intel or running into any problems.

She would be taking a taxi to the club and it was arriving to pick her up in mere minutes, so she slipped on her black pumps, grabbed her cash and ID (Stuffing those in her dress) and slid out the door, locking it and setting the alarms her and Clint rigged up.

* * *

To say that jaws dropped when she entered the club would be an understatement. It was already packed with partiers. She was the envy of every girl in the room, yet she slinked back to the bar with grace.

"Triple vodka, hold the olives" She said to the bartender, flashing a flirty smile in his direction, hoping he wouldn't bother to ask for ID, knowing she would inadvertently end up flashing him to some degree.

"Let's see the license sweetheart." From the smirk on his face, Natasha figured he had a similar thought. Letting out an inaudible sigh, she grabbed the damn license and slapped it onto the bar, ignoring the leering glances she saw sent her way.

Natasha could hear Clint grumble in her ear '_If the damn bastard wants a free show, he could at least buy the damn drink_.' Just as the bartender told her the first drink was on the house. After that there was incoherent mutterings about where he could shove the drink.

"I added some of our blueberry splash inta that for ya sweet cheeks. The name's Gus." Natasha bit back a remark about not wanting the damn blueberries and forced a smile onto her face.

"Arielle" She told him while turning to leave the bar and move towards the mass of dancing people.

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist and it took a great deal of will power not to snap bones first and ask questions second.

"Now, now, don't I get some sorta thanks for that drink? We really aren't supposed to, but I have a weakness for beautiful ladies." Gus told her while sliding around the bar and towards her. She could see that the others at the bar were being taken care of by a second bartender, though that one was female. He glanced at a clock behind the bar. "Wouldya look at that, my shift just ended." Gus whispered in Natasha's ear in a way that made every hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Natasha began to feel a warm sensation running through her veins in an uncomfortable manner and felt as if she could barely move her limbs.

That asshole must have spiked her drink with something strong since usually drugs don't work well in her system with her enhancers.

He leaned in and grabbed her arm, but what sent fear through her was that she couldn't find the muscles to pull away from him and she was only able to lean away slightly.

"None of that now, we're going to go get you somewhere more comfortable." Gus said as he led her out the back door and proceeded to shove her against the back wall. Internally she was panicking and trying to send some sort of signal to Barton to let him know that this was not part of her plan but she couldn't make her mouth form the words.

He had the top of her dress completely off before an arrow pierced his neck as Clint realized she wasn't acting along with the scumbag.

She could sense him drop down next to her but couldn't turn her head to look as he draped a jacket over her and zipped it up in seconds. She felt him pick her up from behind the knees and head towards the back of the alley where he knew there was a cut through that would lead to an empty store that's been abandoned for years.

When they got to the store, Clint set her down with her back up against a worn down counter.

"Even though we're going to use the underground basement entrance, I'm getting out the blond wig to be safe." He came over and positioned the hair so it would mostly cover her face if she was carried with her head to one side.

Barton picked her back up and walked out the door towards the villa's underground entrance that was half a block away that took them through a long tunnel and put them right at a door that led to the basement.

* * *

When they got into the living room of the villa, Clint laid Natasha down on the couch so the drugs could wear off and he could've sworn he saw gratitude reflected in her emerald green eyes.

Barton headed into the kitchen so he could make something for Natasha to eat after the drugs passed through her system. The drugs must've been incredibly strong for them to be affecting Natasha as bad as they were. He could only imagine how bad they would hit a normal girl if Natasha's enhancers couldn't shake them. The thought of it made him want to slam his fist into a wall.

He began getting out supplies for waffles and tea, knowing she would need something to replenish the nutrients that the chemicals most likely ate away. The tea was to calm her down from what would inevitably be a hurricane of emotions.

* * *

Natasha began feeling the slight haze in her mind clear after about an hour after Barton put her on the couch. She could guess that on an average girl that was her size, the drug would render them unconscious for about a day.

While she could now think at full speed, her limbs were still immobile.

After 5 minutes of fighting the drugs for control, she regained feeling in her fingers and toes. Another 5 minutes after that, she could raise her arms about a foot up.

Finally, ten minutes later, she was able to sit up and speak.

"Barton?" She rasped, hoping he could hear with her dry throat. She felt her mind start racing into a panic attack from everything the drugs brought on. The fear, the powerlessness, and the complete and utter lack of control she had. Not to mention that the piece of shit got his hands all over her when she couldn't stop him.

She was grateful that when Clint got to her, he didn't sneak any peeks at what he could have. So many men have taken advantage of her in the past, and to have him cover her up the instant he could have meant a lot in her book.

"Right here" He called, briskly walking in from the kitchen with a cup of her tea in his hand. Right as he reached her side, Natasha began struggling to stand up. Clint grabbed her arm to steady her, but she wanted to keep moving.

"Bathroom." She gasped; so Clint promptly picked her up again and sped towards the large bathroom to their left.

He set her down inside, right in front of the toilet and she promptly threw up everything she had eaten that day.

He held her hair back without a second thought.

**Wow, again I really am sorry that this took so long to upload. If you're waiting for me to update, you should check out anything by **_**shadowsontherun** _**and****_Samitballi._**

**__I am currently working on another Clintasha story that will take place after _The Avengers, _so if you want to know when that comes out you can add me to your author alerts because it will be out by mid-August at the latest. The title is _'Aside_'.**

**Please R&R, thanks!**


End file.
